This is the beginning
by Kizzia
Summary: Merlin knows Morgana spoke the truth; her brief reign has begun many things. But is her desire for revenge the only threat to Camelot? My take on what should have happened in S4.  ON HAITUS - POSSIBLY PERMANENTLY.  Please check my profile for an explanation.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, I'm just playing with the characters created by Shine and the BBC. _

_If you don't want any spoilers for S4, leave now - I'm working with what little is known of where Johnny Capps and Julian Murphy intend to take S4._

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

The valley was filled with mist, thick greyish white tendrils obscuring all sight of the surface of the lake and almost completely hiding the island at the centre. Only the tips of the highest of the ruined stone walls were visible, dawn light glittering off the dew that clung to the stones. Within those walls, at the centre of this most Blessed Isle, a rowan tree stood. The spot it marked was the well spring of the Old Religion, its roots growing deep into the heart of the ancient magic, sap pulling the power to the surface and leaves releasing it to the world. Once it had been the centre of daily ceremonies as those initiated into the mysteries gave thanks to the earth for the gifts it had blessed them with, but for the last year no-one had set foot in the sacred courtyard.

Now it echoed with movement again.

At the roots of the tree an unconscious woman was laid, wrapped in a silver grey cloak. A bruise spread down one side of her head and neck, dark purple and green under blonde hair and across pale skin. Her breathing was shallow, weak and rasping, each inhalation seeming to rob her of a little more of her remaining strength. The woman who had brought her there knelt beside her, porcelain skin marred by the stream of tears that had only just ceased to flow from glowing gold eyes. Her red lips now twisted into a grimace of grief rather than the smirk she had worn almost constantly for months. Her once beautiful dress, rich red silk and velvet, was now nothing more than tattered rags and her black curls were twisted and tangled like the gnarled roots she rested on.

She could feel the magic of the Isle around her, filling her heart and her mind with a clarity she had never experienced before. Images of rituals long since past filled her sight, spells long since forgotten echoed in her mind and the source of power, untapped for too long, poured into her like a river in flood. The still dawn light crackled, the taste of tin heavy on the air as she lifted her hands to the tree in a gesture of supplication, took a deep breath and then began to chant:

'Æworuld rice gelácnian hie bánsele. Hælu ond eftgian mín déore sweostor.'

She repeated the words over and over; her crooning voice - woven with the promise of succour and care - threaded though the ruined walls, tying the magic to her. With each repetition the glow in her eyes intensified until they appeared like coals in the heart of a fire. Lowering her hands she grasped a jagged rock in her right, swiftly slicing it across her left palm and allowing several drops of her own blood to drip onto the other woman's lips. Raising her hands again, she repeated the words one last time before giving voice to a final shout.

'Hælu!'

The power needed to complete the spell pulsed through her and she sagged to one side, exhausted. As her vision began to darken she saw the woman's head turn toward her, eyes open and tongue licking the blood from chapped lips. As she lost consciousness one word reached her ears,

'Sister!'

The wave of magic that was unleashed could not be contained by the Isle and it continued to spread; rippling out from the valley through all of Camelot and into the lands beyond.

Kilgharrah, snoozing in his mountain fastness, felt it and awoke with a start. He winced at the taste of the witch's magic in his mind before roaring his displeasure at the deed it had done and the trials such an act would bring for his Lord.

The Druids, performing the dawn ritual in their cave in Ascetir, felt it and their chanting momentarily faltered. Only Iseldir, their leader, had any idea of what it was they had felt, the hair on the back of his neck lifting at its touch.

Mordred, despite the many leagues between him and the Isle, felt it and smiled. He was reassured by the light brush of fading magic that the one person he still loved in this world was alive and had unlocked the power he had sensed within her.

And Merlin?

Well he should have felt it too, would have understood what it was and what it meant for him and for Arthur. And he would have done if he hadn't, at the exact instant the wave reached him, been performing potent magic of his own; fulfilling a promise and sealing the sword into the stone.

_To be continued? _

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><p><strong>Kizzia: <strong>

**So this is possibly the start of a 'Season 4' story, charting where I hope the powers that be take the story arc, based on the spoilers I've read up to this point and an attempt to weave in some real parts of the Arthurian legend – very loosely as there isn't much they haven't changed in some way! **

**I'd love to know what you think, whether you want me to continue and any suggestions you may have about where you would like me to take this story, so please press the button at the bottom and review! **

**I'm currently trying to finish mapping out the whole story (check my profile page for more details on this) and getting all my ideas coherantly linked together may take some time, so I doubt I'll be in a position to update for at least a couple of weeks. But I can promise that once I start posting chapters you will get at least one a week as I'm not going to post anything more until I've got a complete plan and written the bulk of each chapter! **

**Oh and this is strictly cannon pairing story, no slash and other than Agravaine (who doesn't count because he will be in the show) there won't be any OC's with major roles. Well none are planned - I hold no responsibility for the characters once I let them loose in the story.**

**Again – please review! Virtual cookies to all reviewers and a virtual date with Merlin/Arthur/Knight/other cast member of your choice to the best one! **


	2. SE1  Aftermath  Part I

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the characters, I'm just borrowing them. I'm not doing this for profit, just for fun etc.**

**Thank you all for the reviews and the alerts – they mean so much to me. The virtual night with a favourite cast member goes to Alaia Skyhawk for her helpful suggestions!**

**This is part 1 of 3 of my first sub-episode as although I'm trying to do S4 based on what I've heard from twitter, interviews and spoiler threads so far I refuse to just jump a year as the show will! I will also be doing sub-episodes between the 'real' ones to cover what I would like to happen but know the producers and directors would never show. You will find the full list of episode names up on my profile now and that is all the hints you are going to get about where this is going - I haven't included all the sub-ep names as a girl has to have some secrets!**

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><p><span>Sub-Episode 1 – The Aftermath – Part I<span>

Night swathed Camelot like a crushed velvet cloak, soft and muted; stars standing out like delicate embroidery around the glowing brooch of the moon. The silence was deep; not even the barking of a dog or the tramp of the few guards patrolling the lower town marred the tranquillity of a city at rest. But appearances can be deceptive for not all within the walls of Camelot were at peace in the dark hours before dawn.

Merlin, perched on the windowsill of his unlit room, turned his face up to the moonlight with a soft sigh. Sleep hadn't come easy since his confrontation with Morgana and Morgause and even now, tired as his body was, his mind would not fall quiet. He'd clambered up there when lying in bed wondering what news the scout Arthur had thoughtfully sent to Ealdor would return with had become intolerable - at least at the window he had a view to distract him from imagining all kinds of horrors. The rider had only left yesterday and he had a dispatch to deliver to Willowdale before he could head to the border, he wouldn't be back any time soon and there was nothing Merlin could do to speed up the process.

I shouldn't be wasting the opportunity for sleep he thought ruefully to himself, rubbing eyes that itched with tiredness, I've had little enough chance since we returned. Between his normal duties as Arthur's manservant, helping to treat the victims of the sisters' personal brand of "justice" and desperately trying to fill in the gaps in a much depleted castle staff there just wasn't a moment to spare. Gaius hadn't slept in his chambers at all, preferring to sleep in the makeshift infirmary he and Gwen were running so he was on hand at all times. He's probably getting less sleep than me, Merlin thought, remembering the dark shadows under his mentors eyes when he'd dropped in after taking Arthur his evening meal. He'd stayed to help – one of the knights had taken a turn for the worse, ensuring Gaius and Gwen were completely occupied - so Merlin had organised food for the rest and changed a few bandages. He'd also quietly cast a few healing spells where he could but he'd been unable to make much difference. His skills at healing non-magical maladies and wounds had not improved and he had to fight not to curse out loud at how little he'd managed to do.

Ever since he'd emptied the cup he'd felt out of sorts. Morgana's face as she lost control, hate and fear etched in every feature, seemed to be burned into his mind and her vengeful words echoed through his head. It was a dark malediction that, to Merlin, seemed to promise the end of his destiny before it had begun. He had felt helpless in the presence of her power, unfocused as it was and that, coupled with this almost palpable sense of his own inadequacy, had brought him almost back to the levels of despair he'd felt in the aftermath of Kilgharrah's attack and his part in Balinor's death.

Instinctively his fingers curled around the carved wooden dragon in his lap which, like a child with a favourite blanket, he'd taken to keeping close in the fleeting moments he had to himself. It didn't offer much in the way of comfort given the litany of self castigation running through his head but it was his only link with his father and right now, that was enough. Lifting it up and into the moonlight he addressed it softly.

'What would you do?' he asked, wondering as he did whether the question was really for his father or Kilgharrah. 'Would you go looking for her, for them, or would you stay here and prepare for their return?

It was Kilgharrah's voice that answered him, from somewhere deep in his own soul.

_Trust in your destiny, young Warlock. Do not let the witch's tricks blind you to your true purpose. You must become who you were born to be. You must find your way_.

A smile, sweet and true, crossed Merlin's face and the creases across his forehead and around his eyes smoothed out. Sliding out of the window he carefully put the dragon back under his bed and then headed out of his room. He had some things to collect and then some serious practice to do and now, thanks to the memory of Kilgharrah, he knew the perfect place to do it in.

As Merlin slunk through dark corridors, clutching several prohibited items, Arthur leant back his chair with a disgusted snort, lifting his arms above his head in a vain attempt to stretch the kinks out of his neck. He knew it was very late but there was so much to do and none of it could wait, not unless he wanted the people of Camelot to suffer more than they had already. He looked down at the list, the very short list, of men fit to guard the city but the words began to dance on the page. For Gods sakes he muttered, flinging himself out from behind his desk and striding across his chambers to the fireplace. With each step he noticed, and not for the first time since they'd returned, the differences Morgause's brief possession of his room had wrought.

Gwen had managed to save a couple of his books and a few items of clothing before she'd made her bid for freedom but the personal items he'd kept there – jousting favours, tournament prizes, the few gifts his father had given him that weren't weapons related - had been spirited away to who knew where along with the Pendragon bed hangings and curtains. He had torn down the ones Morgause had replaced them with but had stopped Merlin and Gwen trying to find his old ones; a few missing items were hardly important right now. At least he'd been wearing his mothers ring and her bracelet, he thought, rubbing the ring with this thumb, if they have been taken by those, those … women, it might just have tipped him over the edge. A shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature ripped through him and the taint of her presence became almost unbearable. Clenching his jaw he dropped to his knees on the fur at the hearth and gave the fire a vigorous stoking before added several more lumps of wood. He would not be driven out of his chambers by a memory, not when she'd had no right to be there in the first place.

I shouldn't have dismissed Merlin for the night he acknowledged to himself five minutes later as he sat slumped in front of the now roaring fire. Not that he could have kept him in attendance when he was so obviously exhausted but right now he really needed someone to confide in, someone who wouldn't judge him and, not that he would admit it to the bumbling idiot's face, someone who he could call friend. The weight of responsibility that was now his seemed to be growing, pressing down on him, as he watched the dancing flames. He was king in all but name, thanks to the one sane act his father had managed to perform since his release - signing an attester to his regency in the presence of Geoffrey and Gaius.

Arthur knew that Geoffrey had drawn it up and Gaius had virtually ordered his father to sign it but that didn't make it any the less binding, nor him any the less grateful. They, like him and the friends who had helped him liberate the kingdom, wanted Camelot to have a future – a good future. Arthur hoped their belief that he was the one who could make that happen was justified. Was he really strong enough, he wondered, fingers tracing the carved pattern on the chair arm. If he was, surely he could have prevented this, seen Morgana for what she was. Hell, if he was anything like the ruler he wanted to be then surely Merlin should have told him of his suspicions, should have told him she had magic? All Merlin had said when he'd confronted him was that it hadn't been his secret to tell and Arthur hadn't found any words to argue after that. But still, if Merlin had worked it out, he should have done. Pushing his fingers through his already dishevelled hair he was just contemplating going to the indoor training room to give him something to take out his frustrations on when there was a gentle tap at the door.

'Arthur?' Gwen said, poking her head through the gap before slipping into the room and closing the door behind her. She was clad in the old red dress she'd had for years but the firelight gilded the curls dancing round her face and gave an added lustre to her already luminous skin. Arthur drank in the glorious picture she made but when he met her eyes to see unshed tears in a glittering film over brown irises his upsurge of desire was forgotten.

'What's happened?' He said, crossing the room in three strides and gathering her into his arms. 'Are you alright?'

'Sir Paladin,' she said, voice muffled by his chest. 'Just now … I'm sorry. There was nothing more Gaius could do.' She took a few shaky gulps of air before adding. 'I thought you'd want to know.'

Arthur nodded sharply before guiding her back to his chair where he settled her on his lap, unable to say a word. Sir Paladin had been a good man and an excellent knight; his loss was yet another blow to their already depleted defences. Morgana had not allowed any of the knights who were injured but alive after the invasion to be treated unless they swore allegiance to her. None had and of the few who had survived the two weeks of her rule now only one was left, despite Gaius' best efforts. The despair he had only just been keeping at bay washed over him once more and he held Gwen tight, taking comfort from her warming presence.

He wasn't sure how long they had been sitting, lost in their own thoughts when Gwen spoke.

'She's not going to just accept this defeat and leave us alone, is she?'

'No,' He replied, unable to find the words to soften he statement. 'No one who can cause this much suffering in such a short time would give in, especially now she has exposed what she truly is.'

'Yes, I didn't realise how powerful she was. I didn't realise she had allies. I didn't know who her teacher had been.'

The tone of her voice told him his intuition was right but he had to ask anyway.

'You knew, didn't you? Before she welcomed Morgause with opened arms. You knew she was a danger, that she had magic.'

'Yes.' She shifted on his lap so she could look him directly in the eyes and his anger was gone as swiftly as it had come.

'You should have told me.' He'd meant to sound stern but all he managed to do was sound like he was pleading. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

She cupped his face in her hands, leaning her forehead against his for a moment before pulling back and saying softly, 'And how would you like me to have put it? How could I have told you before, when she still appeared to be your friend, when your father would hear no word against her?' She bit her lip, eyes uncertain.

'Don't stop,' he said, forcing his body to relax, 'I want you to tell me everything. I need to understand how I could have been so blind. And how the two people who mean the most to me in this world felt they couldn't tell me what they knew.'

'Oh Arthur,' Gwen said, eyes filling with compassion and understanding. 'This wasn't your fault, this wasn't anyone's fault. Even if I'd said something, well, there was _no proof_ of my claims. Not one tiny shred.' He'd opened his mouth to interrupt but she held her finger over it and continued 'I know you would have believed me, but what would you have done. If you'd confronted her she would have denied it, if you'd gone to the King he would have dismissed it out of hand and either course of action would probably have resulted in my being imprisoned, banished or worse.' She paused, eyes searching his face and he managed a weak smile, which she returned. 'I'm sorry I had to keep it from you, but I thought I was doing the right thing. And so did Merlin.'

'No, I'm sorry,' Arthur said, voice catching in his throat. 'Sorry I didn't stand up to my father more. Sorry I didn't speak up when he dismissed charges against a noble just because they were a noble but condemn commoners without trial. I'm ashamed that I didn't challenge him each time he let his blind hatred of magic condemn innocent people to death and make those people who would have been allies into enemies. Maybe if I'd been able to temper his actions Morgana wouldn't have done what she did.' He dropped his eyes, unable to meet her gaze any longer. 'I failed you. I failed her. I failed everyone.'

'Look at me Arthur Pendragon,' she said, pushing herself straight, her voice was suddenly strong, commanding. He did not even consider disobeying. 'You will not think that and you will never repeat that – either out loud or in your head – ever again. If you do you are letting her win. The only person who failed is Morgana. She let her fear turn to hate and then she abused her power in the worst way possible. If you are going blame anyone, blame her, she is the only one who deserves it'

Arthur studied her face, her belief in him, her love for him radiating from every feature and the knot of fear and panic that had been threatening to overwhelm him melted like butter in the sun. He could tell her, she would understand.

'I'm so angry Gwen, so angry that I don't quite know what do with myself. Right now if she walked into this room I'm not sure whether I'd be able to control myself after everything she's done. I didn't know I could feel hatred this strongly.'

'But you don't want to hate her?' Gwen questioned, voice neutral.

'She's my half-sister, my blood, my family. Family is … precious. Part of me thinks that no matter what she'd done I shouldn't hate. But then I think of all the people who are dead or injured by her will and I see red again.'

'Her actions condemn her, certainly. She does not deserve forgiveness simply because you share her blood, but equally hatred does you no good either.'

'It doesn't sound like you hate her.' He said, wrapping his arms more snugly round her waist and pulling her back onto his chest, feeling better already.

'I don't.' She replied, nestling her head into the crook of his neck. 'I pity her and I fear what she might do next but I don't hate her. She lost herself in that year she was lost to us, Arthur, that year Morgause poisoned her mind. We never got Morgana back, just a shell full of spite, anger and the desperate need for revenge. The Morgana who was my friend as well as my mistress would never have done these things and that Morgana would have despised who she has now become.'

'I know,' he said, idly twisting one of her curls round his forefinger, 'but that's what makes it so hard. When I think of her I think of the old Morgana, the one I loved like a sister without knowing she actually was. How could she have set that relationship aside so easily? Especially when, even now, I can't.' He took deep breath before continuing 'and I still don't understand why Father didn't tell either of us. If he'd told us the truth in the beginning, when she first arrived, would this have happened?'

'He was also doing what he thought was the best thing … for you both.' Gwen said gently. 'Morgana loved Gorlois fiercely, telling her would have been impossible when she was grieving for him and then, as time passed, it would have seemed more and more difficult to explain why he had not said something sooner.'

'That still doesn't explain why he couldn't have told me.' He knew he sounded like a petulant child but he didn't care, it was just such a relief to say it out loud.

'Without telling her? Are you saying you would have been able to carry on and treat her exactly as you had been once you knew?'

'That's not the point!'

'I think to your father it may have been.'

'I just … I thought he trusted me.'

'He did, Arthur, he still does and,' Gwen tilted her head and pressed a kiss to his jaw before continuing. 'And I think this is the reason you are quite as angry as you are. I don't blame you, not in the slightest, but you do need to deal with it and I don't think I'm the person you need to have this discussion with. Go and talk to him in the morning. Say what you need to say and give him a chance to explain. You might not like the answers but at least you'll know the truth and can stop torturing yourself with your imaginings.'

'It really is that simply isn't it.' He said bemusedly, feeling calmer than he had for days.

'It really is.' She replied, the hint of a smile in her voice. 'Most things are when you aren't the one they are happening to.'

'Thank you, Guinevere,' he said sincerely, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. 'You really are a remarkable woman.'

He could feel a blush heating her cheek as it rested on his collarbone but she said nothing, just twisted her hand into his shirt and let out a contented sigh. Leaning his head on hers he allowed his eyes to close, intending to plan his conversation with his father in head, but it was not to be. They were both asleep within minutes and that was how they remained for the rest of the night. They were still curled together, in front of the cold hearth, with slight smiles on their faces when the dawn arrived and with it Merlin bringing Arthur's breakfast.

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><p><strong>Kizzia: Well, there you are – hope you liked it. Part 2 will be up next week and then there will be regular updates until it's finished – except when I'm on holiday with no access to internet. <strong>

**Please review – I really appreciate knowing what you think. **


	3. SE1  Aftermath  Part II

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, I'm only borrowing the characters, I'm not doing this for profit and so on ad infinitum!**

**Thank you to all who have reviewed, favourited and alerted, you've all made me very happy. I really appreciate knowing you are interested and enjoying this story. Now onwards with Part II:**

Sub-Episode 1 – Aftermath – Part II

Uther gazed out of his window at the kingdom he had ruled for over thirty years but took no joy in the view. His face now reflected every one of those years and the stained bed-shirt he wore bore visible testament to his current state of mind. At the sight of a woman crossing the courtyard, dark hair glinting in the dawn light, he drew back from the window as if stung; breath quickening and eyes darting to the corners of the room as he pressed himself against the wall. Was it her? Had she come?

He couldn't escape her. She stalked his mind, resplendent in the trappings of a queen, repeating the cruel words she had flung at him in the dungeons over and over again. She had magic, was born with it, accepted it, used it. She could be here now! His legs gave way and he slumped to the floor, shaking and damp with cold sweat. He saw her face in the shadows, mocking and vicious, glorying in her power over him. His daughter … his failure … his judgment.

A knock at the door shattered the vision as a familiar voice called

'Sire?'

'E … Enter,' Uther croaked, not bothering to attempt to regain his feet or his composure. It didn't matter anymore.

Gaius took one look at the scene before him and stuck his head back out of the door.

'Lancelot, Elyan, I need some assistance in here.'

Neither knight showed any sign of surprise at the sight of their sovereign cowering on the floor or at the starkness of the room, stripped as it was of wall hangings and curtains; the King had been unable to rest until anything a person could hid behind had been removed. Instead each gently took an arm and helped the confused monarch into his bed.

'Elyan, can you go and inform Arthur please?' Lancelot said quietly, 'He said he was going to come to speak with the King first thing this morning. In light of this he may want to leave it for a couple of hours.'

'Of course,' Elyan said, glad to be leaving the King's presence.

Lancelot watched the other knight hurry out while trying to straighten the King's blankets before going over to Gaius, who was measuring out a violet liquid into a small bottle, and dropping his voice to a whisper.

'Would you like me to stay? You look exhausted and I'm more than happy to help.'

Gaius laid a hand on Lancelot's arm, face relaxing a little from the worried frown he had worn since they'd returned. 'No, thank you Lancelot, I will be fine. There is little enough to do here at the moment. All I can do for him is to give him this to calm his mind; it won't take me long.'

Lancelot looked for a second as if he would protest but then, when Gaius added that if he needed help he would call, he nodded and returned to his post outside the door.

'Gaius?' Uther called, voice now shaking as much as his body. 'Is she here?'

'No Sire,' Gaius replied soothingly, placing his hand behind his King's head as he helped him to drink the potion down. 'She's gone. Arthur defeated her. We are all safe now.'

'My son.' Uther said, eyes lightening at the mention of his golden child but darkening again just as quickly. 'He must hate me,' he muttered, pulling at the blankets fretfully, 'I would, after what I've done.'

'Hush Sire,' Gaius said, voice still professionally calm, 'Arthur does not have it in him to hate you. He is your son and he loves you, no matter what has happened.'

The King's voice was so quiet Gaius wondered later whether he'd heard his next words at all;

'She was my daughter and she hates me, why would he be any different?' Uther turned his face away from Gaius, lost once more to his brooding, leaving the physician to gather his kit and exit the chambers without a sound.

As Gaius made his way back to the infirmary Sir Leon was standing in the entrance hall being told by Lord Alric, for what felt like the hundredth time, exactly what he thought about Camelot's new knights.

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'… they are commoners.' Alric concluded petulantly, raising a hand when Leon opened his mouth to speak. 'I know what you would say but I have no interest in what Arthur did or did not do when he was not, officially speaking, in charge of the kingdom. The fact remains that the code states only nobles may serve as Knights of Camelot and those four are _not_ nobles. I mean, have you seen the state of them?'

At the dismissive gesture Alric gave with the words Leon's patience finally snapped.

'The fact _remains_ that Prince Arthur – the Crown Prince of Camelot and your attested Regent - knighted those men in my presence and he has had no cause to rescind that act.' Mirroring Alric's earlier gesture he prevented him from speaking and continued.

'Have you forgotten, _my Lord,_ that only a few days ago you were bowing and scraping to a traitorous usurper whilst "those commoners" were assisting our Prince in overthrowing her?'

Alric's face had gone from its usual white to an ugly mottled red but Leon found himself unable to halt his tongue.

'In the last few days none of the _warriors_ fit enough for duty have got much sleep, due to the mess the Lady Morgana left us in. I am astounded you have the time to worry about such petty issues as the status of four men who are serving this Kingdom with honour and I suggest you start to use that time more wisely.'

Leon gave the now purple lord a last disparaging look before turning on his heal and stalking out into the courtyard. No doubt he would pay for his moment of honesty at the council meeting later today but right now he didn't care. Arthur had been right to knight the men who had stood beside him so staunchly and he was not going to waste anymore of his time defending his Prince against those who were too short sighted to see the wisdom in his acts.

Merlin, who had ducked into an alcove when he'd heard Alric confront Leon, was trying hard to muffle his laughter until the discomforted noble had left the area. He could just imagine the expression on the pompous old windbag's face at the slurs against his actions and his status as a mere lord rather than a warrior. Not that Merlin was surprised by Alric's whining. He had been expecting opposition to Arthur's recent actions but he had thought they might have a few weeks before the traditionalists began to make any significant noise. But in this life you don't always get what you want, he thought, listening as Alric's indignant footfalls faded away. As soon as the obnoxious man was no longer within earshot Merlin eased out of the alcove and continued towards Arthur's chambers with the stack of new clothes he had collected from the palace tailors, shaking his head as he did so.

Arthur had insisted that there were more important things to be arranged than getting him new sets of formal clothes to replace what the sisters had destroyed but Merlin thought otherwise. Yes for the most part the Prince could manage in the basic clothes he wore for training or relaxing in his chambers but today he needed to command respect at Council. There was also the distinct possibility that one of the border lords or neighbouring kings may visit to see how Camelot was coping after all the excitement and Arthur certainly couldn't greet someone like that in a rough shirt and leather breeches.

'I thought I told you I didn't need you to get me those right now.' Arthur said with a frown as Merlin entered his chambers moments later. 'What I wear is not a major concern at the moment.'

'While I applaud your sentiments I think you might be being a bit short sighted about this,' Merlin said bluntly as he laid the clothes on the bed for Arthur to inspect. 'You'll thank me this afternoon when you aren't feeling at a disadvantage in Council as Lord Alric, dressed in his finest as he always is, brings his grievance to the table .'

'How can he have a grievance already?' Arthur exclaimed, absently running his hand over a well cut tunic, his forehead furrowed. 'None of the older members of Council are aware of what I'm going to propose today. Well except Gaius and he wouldn't have let anything slip.'

'I'm not talking about the call for aid.' Merlin said, not looking at the Prince as he began to tidy his desk. 'This isn't about what you are going to do; it's what you've already done. I just witnessed an incident between Alric and Leon. It seems the noble lord is … unhappy … with your decision to knight Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival and was trying to get Leon to take them off the roster.'

'Of all the small minded, short sighted … idiots!' Arthur exploded, slamming his hand against the bedpost. 'Has he not looked around him lately that he can be bothering Leon with a ridiculous request?'

'That was pretty much what Leon said to him in the corridor, loud enough for anyone approaching to hear.' Merlin said,

'I'd have liked to have seen that,' Arthur said, ghost of a smile on his face as he paced between the bed and the table. 'Leon doesn't often get riled but when he does – well - I'm always glad I've never been on the receiving end. You are right though, I can't imagine taking an ear bashing, even from Leon, will keep that … that …'

'Insufferable old goat?' Merlin suggested when words seemed to fail Arthur.

'Yes, quite' Arthur grinned briefly before finishing his sentence, 'from harping on about it.'

He sat down at the table, rubbing his hand over his eyes, only to get straight up again and head for the window, continuing his diatribe as he went.

'I don't have time to deal with such petty concerns now, Merlin, not when I need to persuade them all that sending a call for aid to the treaty kingdoms is the only course of action open to us. If Alric isn't dealt with I'll never get anywhere and I do not want to start my Regency by dismissing the Council and acting alone – that isn't how I want to rule.'

'I know,' Merlin murmured, coming to stand next to him. 'Maybe you could speak to him before the meeting? Make him aware you share Leon's views on the matter?'

'I doubt if even that would shut him up.' Arthur said, fingers drumming on the windowsill. 'Besides which the Council is this afternoon and I want to visit my father now. Elyan reported his is still … unwell … but there are some things I need to talk to him about and I can't wait any longer.' He turned to Merlin, his expression making a plea for understanding and help that Merlin could not, would not, ignore. 'How am I going to find the time to deal with Alric?'

'You aren't,' Merlin said, a slight tremor evident in his voice. ''Do you trust me enough to let me deal with the issue? Will you allow me to go to Lord Geoffrey on your behalf?'

'Yes, of course I trust you,' Arthur said, turning to meet Merlin's gaze, 'but how can Geoffrey help? He and Alric have never got along.'

'I don't want Geoffrey to intercede, I want him to perform a service in his capacity as Court Historian and Genealogist,' Merlin said patiently, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face. 'There must be precedents for this sort of thing. The knighting of commoners must have happened at some point in the Kingdom's history, especially if what you said about that table is true,' he said, waving his hands airily, 'and if not, well, you are aware of how remorseful Geoffrey feels for participating in the crowning of Morgana. I'm sure if I suggest he "find" some evidence for you he will be eager to do so, in order to atone for his lapse of judgment.'

Arthur's expression, mouth now open in confused disbelief, made it extremely hard for Merlin not to collapse with laughter. Controlling himself he managed to add, 'I will also need to speak to Gwaine as well; he might be able to assist in lessening the problem.'

'You're going to blackmail Geoffrey?' Arthur finally blurted out, apparently ignoring Merlin's mention of Gwaine. 'You, one of the most honourable people I know, are going to blackmail an old man with something he was forced to do on pain of death?'

'Yes, because you need it sorted and this is the easiest way,' Merlin said with a shrug. 'If it wouldn't cause more problems than it solved I'd get you to ennoble them all and call it a reward for their service in the battle but I don't think that is sensible right now. Ennobling them would make it look like you are trying to cover a mistake. In contrast by producing evidence that you haven't done anything new you come across as well versed in Camelot's history and you can use that to your advantage. A simple hint that Alric, if he was as knowledgeable as he always claims to be, should have known this already should be enough to quiet him for now.'

'I see,' Arthur said, still looking quite shocked. 'Yes, that would work very well, but since when did you start thinking about matters of state this thoroughly?'

'Since my master and friend became Regent,' Merlin said with a smile. 'It is my duty to serve after all.'

Arthur smiled back, the tension radiating from him easing visibly as he made for the door. 'Then thank you, Merlin, I appreciate it. Just don't let it go to your head. You're still an idiot most of the time.'

'Indeed, Sire,' Merlin said, bowing slightly before adding just loud enough for Arthur to hear, 'Just as you are still a prat.'

Arthur opened the door before turning to face Merlin, his left eyebrow looking as if it had been taking lessons from Gaius'. 'The stocks haven't been removed you know.'

Merlin merely grinned in response before stifling a yawn and continuing to clear the chambers. He had a lot to do before noon if he was going to sort Arthur's troublesome lord out and his little excursion last night was beginning to take its toll.

_xxxxxxxxxxx_

'Merlin,' Gwaine called across the training field happily, having finally noticed the Warlock who was patiently waiting at the side trying to stifle a particularly loud yawn. 'You look bloody dreadful,' he added, once he was close enough to see Merlin properly.

'Thanks,' Merlin tried to say but yet another yawn forced its way past his guard and all he managed was strangled sound as he struggled not to give himself lockjaw.

'I'm going to have a word with Arthur,' Gwaine said, concerned eyes taking in every inch of Merlin's face through the open visor of his helmet. 'I know we are stretched for men but it doesn't look as if you've slept at all. He shouldn't be working you like this.'

'You will do no such thing,' Merlin said, attempting to assist Gwaine with removing his armour and getting his hands swatted away for his trouble. 'This has nothing to do with Arthur. He sent me to bed just after midnight but I just couldn't sleep.'

When Gwaine pulled his helmet off and fixed him with a disbelieving stare he felt compelled to add

'Honestly, Gwaine, this is not Arthur's fault. I kept wondering about my mother and well … you know, with everything …'

'Yeah,' Gwaine said as he pushed his sweat soaked hair off his face. 'Yeah I know all too well.'

They were silent as Gwaine gave in and allowed Merlin to help him out of his armour before motioning for the servant assigned to assist the knights to take it to the armoury. Only when the man had gone did Merlin break the silence.

'I need your help,'

'Anything Merlin, you know that.' Gwaine said before Merlin could finish the sentence.

'Well, just let me tell you first and then you can agree if you still want to.'

'You look so serious – this isn't about a girl is it?'

Merlin's bark of laughter echoed across the open ground, garnering him some strange looks from the few remaining knights still training. 'No! When on earth would I have found time to meet a girl?'

'I've met plenty since we've been back.'

'Yes, well that's because you are a Knight, all new and shiny and interesting.'

'Are you saying it is just the armour that attracts them, not my sparkling wit and personality?'

'Yes, I mean no, I mean … oh for goodness sake Gwaine, I'm too tired for this - I sound like Gwen. Will you listen without interrupting for five seconds!'

Gwaine bit his lip, lifted his hands in mock surrender and nodded.

'Right,' Merlin said quietly, turning back towards the citadel, Gwaine falling into step beside him. 'I need you to acknowledge who your father is … I need you to tell everyone that you are a noble and start using your title.'

'And this will help you how?' Gwaine said with a frown but Merlin was please to note he hadn't dismissed it out of hand.

'Lord Alric has been complaining that Arthur knighted commoners and I told Arthur I'd try and sort something out before the Council meet. I've already spoken to Lord Geoffrey and he is going to find a precedent for just such an act but given that you really are a noble would be helpful if he could announce that as well.'

Gwaine sighed, eying Merlin's hopeful expression with resignation, 'And why can't Arthur just tell this Alric to go hang?'

'Because Arthur doesn't want to rule like that, he wants a Council that listens to him, takes his points on board and knows that in return he will listen to them and take their advice. Alric has served on the Council for many years and if the first thing Arthur does is dismiss his concerns without addressing them it could alienate many of the nobles.'

'But they are his father's advisors, not his?' Gwaine queried, receiving a curt nod in response. 'Well then if I was Arthur I'd just dismiss them. Replace them with people whose opinions I actually cared about.'

'Yes, well it's a good thing you're not then isn't it. Arthur isn't King yet, Gwaine, he's Regent and he needs all the nobles on his side. Camelot is weak, Morgana has almost broken the Kingdom's outward defences, it won't survive if the internal system crumbles as well.' Merlin's mouth lifted at one corner as he continued, 'If you thought with your head not your heart for two seconds you'd see it … but then you don't really have the temperament to rule.'

'Thanks!' Gwaine said, giving Merlin a shove but there was no malice in it.

'Give him time and Arthur will change things,' Merlin said earnestly, blue eyes fixed on Gwaine's brown ones, 'but right now there has to be some semblance of normality and the Council is it.'

'I do see your point,' Gwaine said, resting his hand on Merlin's shoulder, 'and if it will help then of course I'll lay claim to my title. I presume you told Arthur about me already?'

'No,' Merlin said, sounding vaguely insulted. 'I told you I wouldn't tell and I haven't. I think you can tell him yourself - come to his chambers the hour before Council and please, wear something smart. I'd imagine he'll drag you along once he knows.'

'Gods, stuck in a room listening to stuffy old men get everything wrong? If you weren't my friend …' Gwaine's muttering trailed off, shoulders slumped.

'But I am, as is Arthur and he could do with all the help he can get right now. He's talking with his father this morning.' Merlin's face had creased with worry again and Gwaine immediately felt ashamed of himself.

'Compared to Arthur my life is a breeze right now,' he said as they reached the steps to the entrance. 'I've no business complaining.'

'No, neither have I,' Merlin said with a lopsided smile. 'But we can still have a moan to each other even so. That's what friends are for.'

'You never said a truer word,' Gwaine said, giving Merlin a pat on the back as they parted, his mind already turning to the pretty personage of Lady Bronwen. She might give him the time of day once she knew he was Sir Gwaine of Ponthir, son and heir of the chivalrous Sir Gaheris whose deeds as a Knight in Caerleon's army were still sung in taverns – if only by Gwaine himself.

_xxxxxxxxxxx_

Well, Arthur thought as he left his father's chambers to the sound of the noon bell, face grey and a pounding headache lodged behind his eyes, I guess I asked for that. That had been a discussion he'd never forget and calling it a discussion was too kind by half. The man in the King's chamber - currently being drugged into oblivion by Gaius to prevent him calling any more attention to his mental state - was not the father he had loved and respected all these years. The body may look similar but, between the loss of his unacknowledged daughter and the loathing of magic that had eaten into his soul like a canker until there was nothing left but hate and fear, Camelot's strong, proud King was nothing but a memory.

What hurt most, he thought dispiritedly as he hurried through the corridors, was the nature of what had been kept from him. He could understand Father being unwilling to admit to an affair, especially with the wife of one of his closest friends, but it _had_ been after his mother had died. Arthur would have been shocked, of course, but he would have understood what loneliness and misery had driven him to. However that was not the only thing that had been kept from him.

Yes Morgause had twisted the tale for her own ends but the essence of the story of his birth had been correct. All these years of persecution, all the tirades on the evils of magic, all the death sentences for those who consorted with sorcerers, every act had been fuelled because his father couldn't accept that his and Igraine's choice to use magic to conceive a child had been a death warrant for her. Under his own laws his father should have had his son killed for being a product of magic, should have had himself killed for using it. And then to tell him that not three months earlier he had begged Gaius to use magic to save Morgana - and Gaius had!

That had been the last straw and he'd seen red. He knew he shouldn't have shouted, not when his father's eyes were begging him for forgiveness but he couldn't help himself. He'd called Uther a hypocrite, told him he had the blood of innocent people on his hands, that he had broken the bond of trust between them. The words may have been true but they should not have been said, not then, not like that.

For the space of a heartbeat neither one had moved or said a word, but then the screaming had started. His father had turned into a raving stranger, first declaring his son enchanted, then accusing him of being in league with Morgana before finally deciding Arthur was a vision conjured by sorcery and started to fling things at him. Only when Gaius entered had he calmed at all – which Arthur found more than a little ironic, since he now knew Gaius could still command magic when he wished – and Arthur had slipped away, heartsick.

He needed to talk to Merlin. Merlin had lived with Gaius ever since he had come to Camelot. He must know that Gaius still used his magic on occasions, or at least suspect it. Come to think of it Gaius' magic was probably the big secret he'd always thought Merlin had and why Merlin always seemed to have good advice on dealing with magical threats.

Not that he'd tell Merlin he knew. No, that was a conversation he needed to have with Gaius at some point, when he knew how he felt about everything. But he couldn't talk to Gaius now. Right now he needed to talk to Merlin. If anyone could help him make sense of the tangle of thoughts in his head, then his idiotic, loyal and occasionally wise servant could. Now all he needed to do was find the courage to ask him.

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><p><strong>Kizzia: Well there you go, Part II all done. You've got to love Arthur, oblivious even when he's trying not to be! Next part will be up as soon as I can mange it – I'm just tinkering with a few bits that aren't working at the moment.<strong>

**In case any of you were wondering Ponthir is a real place – a small village outside Caerleon in Wales - and in the legends Gaheris was a brother of Gwaine so I've just changed the relationship a bit. **

**Well, if the Merlin producers can change Agravaine from Arthur's nephew to his Uncle and remove all family ties between Arthur and Gwaine I don't see why I can't do the same - especially given that Agravaine was also originally a brother of Gwaine.**

**Again, thank you to all my reviewers so far and please, please, please press the button below and review – your comments and criticisms are always welcome and much appreciated!**


	4. SE1  Aftermath  Part III

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, all rights belong to BBC and Shine. I'm not profiting from this, just having fun with the characters … only the ideas are mine but you knew that anyway!**

**Kizzia: Apologies for not getting this up sooner – I got slightly sidetracked trying to work all the spoilers into the plan for the future episodes and realised that I can't work like that. So I have made the decision – if a spoiler fits with and/or enhances my story or is just too good not to include I'll work it. If it doesn't I will just ignore it - this is too well plotted now for me to keep reworking without having a nervous breakdown! I think it is also safe to say that the Merlin writers and I don't see eye to eye and that my version of S4 will be nothing like the real thing. But I don't care, as long as I am enjoying writing it and you are enjoying reading it. **

**Again, thank you to all who have reviewed, favourited and alerted. I hope you enjoy the next instalment.**

* * *

><p><span>Sub-episode 1 – Aftermath – Part III<span>

The noon-day sun was beating down on a forest situated just beyond Camelot's northern border and although the dense leaves stopped a significant amount of the light from reaching the forest floor the same couldn't be said for the heat. Most of the animals who called the place home were resting and only the sleepy buzzing of flies and the occasional call of a bird gave any indication of habitation. The two travellers who had materialised on the outskirts just after dawn were also resting, sitting on a fortuitously fallen tree by a shallow pool.

'Are you sure you are well enough for this?' Morgana asked, eyeing Morgause's drained complexion and shaking hands. 'I thought I'd be able to take us further north with my magic, make it easier for you. But as this morning proved I'm not yet able to channel my power to that extent, so I can't help but think that …'

'Why do you question my judgement, Sister?' Morgause snapped, fixing Morgana with a fierce scowl. 'I have already told you this journey is necessary and that I am more than capable of undertaking it.'

'I question you because I care.' Morgana replied, outwardly unruffled by the outburst. 'I am not disputing the need to get out of Camelot, nor our need to find and secure the assistance of this Blaise you have spoken of. I am simply expressing my concern that you have not fully recovered. You are my only true family now and I do not like to watch you suffer if it is needless.'

Morgause's face softened at the words, hands reaching for Morgana's.

'I'm sorry Sister. I should not berate you when without you I would not be here at all. It is just that I cannot bear being disconnected from my power. Now you have tapped the wellspring of your magic you know what it is I miss. I feel as if I am wrapped in cloth, separate from the world, every sense muffled, dulled, useless. I cannot bear to live like this much longer sister, it will drive me mad.'

Morgana said nothing to this pronouncement but her eyes darkened and her hands clenched beneath Morgause's, guilt and anger warring within her. Guilt that her own power was so much stronger and more malleable since the healing she had performed on Morgause. Initially she had thought she'd been completely successful but then she'd realised only her sister's body was healed and, despite many subsequent efforts, she had been unable to restore Morgause's link to her magic.

That damage, the damage Morgause felt so keenly, was suffering from so terribly, that was all down to the men who had destroyed her defences and emptied of the Cup of Life. Merlin and Lancelot would answer for their actions – Merlin would answer for much, much more - but the defeat wasn't down to them. No, it was all down to that two faced sorcerer who had betrayed his kind when the purge began and was still betraying them now.

'Gaius will pay for this,' she spat out, anger winning. 'For if he had not interfered, used power we never suspected he could command, you would not have been injured and Merlin would never have reached the Cup.' She moved in front of Morgause and knelt, staring unblinkingly into her eyes.

'I promise you that he will suffer as you have suffered. I will make sure of it … I swear it.'

Morgause gave a regal nod, eyes full of approval for the powerful woman at her feet who had, so recently, still been a girl in her eyes.

'Yes, he should be made to pay and I am honoured that you would undertake to do so. However first I must be made whole again.'

'Indeed,' Morgana said, standing and attempting to smooth her ragged outfit before helping Morgause up. 'Come, Sister, there is quite a journey ahead of us.' As they moved off the dust and leaves stirred up by their passage seemed to dance in the shafts of sunlight but the beauty was lost on them, focused as they were on their thoughts of restoration and revenge.

xxxxxxxxxx

That same sunlight was causing Arthur to squint as he stood at his window, staring out at the kingdom that was now his responsibility and trying not to think. He had entered his chambers to find a platter of cold meats and bread laid out on the table for the noon meal but Merlin himself was conspicuous by his absence. Unable to stomach even the thought of food after the morning he'd just endured he had given the table a wide berth as he'd made for his favourite spot.

It was not long until he heard the door creak open, heard Merlin say his name and then repeat it several times but he couldn't bring himself to answer. He wasn't certain that he could speak without giving in to the burning sensation at the back of his eyes. He had once told Merlin that no man was worth his tears and although he had since had more than enough cause to revise that opinion he didn't feel like having his nose rubbed in his change of heart. After another five minutes, the clang of jug and goblets having given way to silence, a hand was placed on his shoulder.

'You should eat, Arthur, you're going to need your strength this afternoon.'

'Hmm … I … well …' Arthur trailed off into silence, unable to articulate his thoughts. Giving Merlin a slightly sheepish look he instead took his place at the table and then proceeded to stare at the food without even attempting to eat it.

'Do you wish me to get something from Gaius for your headache?' was Merlin's next overture to conversation.

'How do you know I've got a headache?'

'Your face is scrunched up like a … a… garrulous goat,' Merlin rejoined, face serious but eyes glinting. 'In fact you look constipated.'

'Idiot,' Arthur retorted but his heart wasn't in it and his voice sounded flat even to his own ears. I'm a warrior, he reminded himself in the privacy of his own head, I have courage. He filled two goblets with wine, took a sip from one and then spoke.

'Look, sit down instead of hanging about like unwanted washing. I want to know what you think about something.'

Merlin slide into the chair opposite, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 'This isn't where you sound like you're going to ask me something important but end up ordering me to do some 'meaningful' task like muck out the stables is it?'

Arthur gave an exasperated snort before plonking the second goblet in front of Merlin and motioning for him to drink.

'No it isn't.' he said, watching Merlin take a considerable gulp of the scarlet liquid. 'I'm being completely serious. Not that I've ever done that anyway. '

When Merlin's look of disbelief didn't go he added, 'Look, I may not say it often but I do value your opinion. You are one of the few true friends I've got and I want your thoughts on this.' Wincing at the words he hadn't meant to voice so frankly he added sternly, 'Although if you try and make me repeat that to anyone else I'll deny everything.'

Merlin nodded vigorously, taking another large slurp of his wine in an effort not to give a smart retort – Arthur really didn't look as if he could take it. Arthur's eyes bored into Merlin's, the silence stretched between them until Arthur finally asked his question; one that threw Merlin completely.

'What do you think about magic, Merlin?' Arthur's voice was neutral, giving Merlin no help as to how he should answer.

'It is banned, Sire.' He finally responded, voice equally as bland.

'And that isn't an answer. I want to know what _you_ think about magic.'

'I, umm, well … you actually want my personal opinion?'

'No, I want you to stutter at me all afternoon.' Arthur said crossly, before taking a deep breath and continuing more calmly. 'I want you to tell me - right now, after all that's happened - what you think about magic.' There was a hint of desperation in Arthur's eyes and suddenly Merlin's mouth seemed to be acting without the consent of Merlin's brain.

'I don't think magic is evil, if that's what you are getting at.'

Surprisingly, Arthur didn't look upset or angry at Merlin's blunt pronouncement. Instead he asked a further, very simple question.

'Why?'

'Because magic is like a … a… dog.'

'Pardon.'

'Look, you can train a dog to fetch and sit and hunt and bring down animals, yes?'

'Yes?'

'It will do whatever you command, provided it is capable of doing so?'

'Yes, but I …'

'Do you want me to finish or not?' Merlin glared at the Prince, who immediately closed his mouth tightly.

'The day you command it to bring down a human rather than a deer the dog hasn't changed - it isn't doing anything other than obeying orders. The power is all with you, with the one _giving_ the command. The dog _isn't_ evil, but you, the owner, are using it to commit an evil act. Magic is _exactly_ the same, it isn't inherently good or evil, it all depends on what the one with the magic uses it for.'

Arthur was quiet for a few minutes, eyes focused not on Merlin but a point just above his head, his mouth twitching as if he were talking to himself. Finally, he smiled. Just barely, but it was there.

'I think you're right. But don't let it go to your head, that analogy was appalling. It would have worked a lot better if you had compared magic to a sword.'

Merlin blinked rapidly, biting down on the urge to say that magic was far more alive than a sword. Instead he allowed a grin to spread across his face as he asked.

'You're agreeing with me? Just like that?'

'_Mer_lin,' Arthur's voice was raised slighting in warning but there was no real threat in it. 'Yes, I am, but I still think magic is dangerous. Look at all the threats Camelot has faced from it.'

'Most of which wouldn't have been there if it wasn't banned.' Merlin said, again almost against his will. 'I … well, you asked for my honest opinion, you can throw me in the stocks if you don't like it … I think that if Morgana hadn't had to hide her magic - if she had been able to grow up learning to use it rather than fearing it - Camelot's enemies wouldn't have been able to sway her from her loyalty to you and your father because they would have had _no leverage_.'

Merlin stood, stalking to the fireplace before turning back to face Arthur, face taut with pain.

'They promised her a life free of fear and she took the chance to seize it with both hands. Just imagine what it must have been like for her, Arthur, watching people who had done nothing more than consort with someone suspected of sorcery be killed, seeing her own maid's innocent father die, believing that one slip and she would be next.' Merlin's voice was now shaking with emotion.

'When Morgause took her she didn't have anyone in Camelot she could be herself with, there was no one she could trust.' Merlin closed his eyes briefly, face dead white. 'Morgause offered her something she didn't think she'd ever have – acceptance for who she really is. It is any wonder she allied herself to _that woman_.'

The last two words were almost spat and Arthur's eyebrows, which had been rising steadily through Merlin's mini-rant, disappeared into his hair.

'I've obviously touched a nerve.' He said coolly, wondering how much of Merlin's views he would have heard if he hadn't practically ordered him to drink the wine.

'Well I'm not exactly fond of Morgause,' Merlin replied, mistaking what Arthur meant by his comment. 'She turned someone I thought to call friend against me, against us all. She's caused me to act in ways I'm not proud of and her thirst for revenge has laid waste to most of Ascetir as well as to Camelot. All because she allowed hate to colour her every thought and act.… No matter what grievances she may have had with Uther her methods were inexcusable.'

Merlin sat back down opposite Arthur, pushing his hands through already tousled hair causing it to standing on end. Arthur's knuckles were white on the hand gripping his goblet; at the mention of his father his breathing had become fast and ragged. He wasn't looking at Merlin, instead studying his uneaten meal.

'She had good reason for that hate though.' Arthur's voice too was shot through with pain as he forced himself to voice the thought that had first surfaced when he saw Morgause take the crown from Uther's head to crown Morgana and now, since his 'talk' with his father, refused to be silenced. 'If my father hadn't been so ridgid and unbending … If he hadn't made a personal grievance a matter of state … _None_ of this would have happened. My father, by his own fear and hatred, caused all this to happen. He may as well have killed our people _himself_.'

Two pairs of blue eyes met, pain and understanding mirrored in each.

'He may have been wrong but he was acting out of a desire to protect. He was doing what he thought was right.' Merlin said softly, hating the misery he could see in Arthur's face. 'He was trying to take care his kingdom and his people but he lost his way. Personal isn't the same as important, he just didn't realise he'd confused the two.'

'And now I have to clear up the mess.' Arthur said, voice thick as he turned his face away sharply.

Wordlessly Merlin stood, fetched a linen square from the Prince's closet and placed it next to him on the table. He then busied himself relaying the fire. Once the noise of the Prince blowing his nose had died away he returned to his seat, trying to find some words to say. In the end it was Arthur that spoke first.

'Thank you, Merlin.' He said, his countenance once again calm.

'What for?' Merlin said, surprised by this sudden change of mood.

'Being honest with me. Telling me what you truly think rather than what you think I want to hear.'

'Always have.' Merlin said, pushing the plate in front of his master. 'Now eat. I didn't fetch that for the good of my health.'

With a wry grin Arthur complied although Merlin caught the mutter of 'idiot' as he went to lay the Prince's clothes out for the afternoon.

xxxxxxxxxx

'… so you see, Lord Alric, as Geoffrey has confirmed, my actions in knighting three commoners were perfectly valid.' Arthur said, inclining his head respectfully to the now scowling Lord.

'Indeed,' Alric replied, barely hiding the discontent in his voice. 'However you said three commoners … and there are four new knights.'

Arthur's smile didn't quite fit under the hand he used to hide it when Gwaine, seated on Arthur's immediate left stood and addressed the council.

'It seems that I have been remiss in how I introduced myself to you all. I shall now remedy that. I am Sir Gwaine of Ponthir, only son of Sir Gaheris.' He concluded with a bow that bordered on the irreverent and Merlin, stood by the door of the room they were temporarily using as the council chambers, had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

'My Lord,' Alric said obsequiously after turning to Geoffrey who confirmed Gwaine's pronouncement with a nod. 'I apologise for any slight I may inadvertently have caused with my earlier comments. I was not aware of your origins.'

'No harm done, friend,' Gwaine said, striding round to where Alric was sitting and clapping him on the shoulder, almost knocking the man out of his chair. 'You weren't to know.'

Arthur, with supreme self control as far as Merlin was concerned, motioned Gwaine back to his seat with a murmur of thanks. Glancing at the Council members Merlin could see Sir Leon's mouth twitching and the other young knights present were also fighting back grins. Merlin was pleased to note that Sir Ector and Lord Hoel, both of whom were close compatriots of Uther, also looked amused by the proceedings and Alric's discomfort. Gaius and Geoffrey both looked impeccably impassive and only Alric and the other three older non-warrior Lords looked upset.

'Now, if we are all satisfied as to the acceptability of my actions?' Arthur paused, making eye contact with each man seated at the table. When it became clear no one had anything else to add he steeled himself to really put the cat among the pigeons.

'These last few weeks have been very difficult for us all,' he began, leaning back in his chair as if he was completely relaxed. 'and I'm sorry to say that I cannot see any respite in the near future. The Camelot I grew up in has been shaken to the core and it will take many months to restore the damage Lady Morgana and her accomplices have inflicted. Buildings can and are being repaired, and repaired quickly, but her actions cost us the lives of many, warriors and commoners alike, and this loss will resonate through our land for many years to come. Our fighting strength has been reduced by half and in the majority of the outlying villages between the Citadel and Ascetir most of the men folk were slain. The harvest is almost upon us yet swathes of crops have been damaged and there are not enough people to gather what is left. A kingdom is only as strong as the people who inhabit it and now our people are grieving, in pain and weak. We will be lucky to survive the winter unscathed.'

Alric had opened his mouth to speak but it was Sir Ector's voice that filled the chamber.

'I applaud your clear sight, Sire. Many men would refuse to accept such a bleak outlook. However I have watched you grow and seen you command troops on many occasions and I know you for an astute strategist. You would not speak like this if you did not have a plan for remedying this situation. I hope you are going to tell us what it is.'

If Merlin hadn't known otherwise he would have suspected Sir Ector had been primed and had it not been for the look of sheer incredulity that had crossed Arthur's face at Ector's pronouncement he was pretty certain most of the Council would have thought that as well.

'I am indeed, Ector,' Arthur said having swiftly got himself back under control. 'We need men. Trained soldiers, to help us guard the citadel and the outlying regions, plus ordinary men who can help with the harvest.'

'And are they going to appear out of thin air?' interrupted Lord Pellam, a close friend of Alric, incredulity vibrating in every syllable.

'If you would let me finish, my Lord,' Arthur said, eyes narrowed dangerously.

'My apologies.' Lord Pellam muttered, 'Please continue.'

'Mercia, Dumnonia, Glywysing and Powys were unaffected by the recent troubles and each of these Kingdoms have abided by the treaties we hold with them. Bayard, Cador, Tewdrig and Cyngen are honest and fair Kings and I am sure that if approached in the right way they would be more than willing to send men and crops to our assistance.'

'Are you mad?' Alric burst out, apparently unmoved by the looks of censure he received from everyone. 'It is bad enough you can sit there and announce to us that Camelot is on the verge of collapse, without shouting it from the towers. You cannot seriously expect us to consider this as a viable course of action.'

'I can and I do,' Arthur said firmly, leaning forward and resting his hands flat on the table. 'I am not suggesting we inform the world that we are weakened and vulnerable. I am saying that we need to inform our four nearest western neighbours, all of whom have proved they can be trusted, of Lady Morgana's actions and request the loan of some men and soldiers to assist in the clear up. The world is changing and we must move with the times. It is no longer enough to stand alone and protect our own borders. Morgana will try again – make no mistake about that – and I cannot see that she will be content with just Camelot as her plaything. No, she will seek to exert her power far and wide. If we stand together with the Kingdoms surrounding us we will be stronger and they will be stronger. Together our Kingdoms can achieve what Camelot alone cannot. While _I_ look after this Kingdom, ruling in my father's stead, I will do whatever it takes to make sure it survives. I will not let fear or pride prevent my people and my land from receiving the help it so sorely needs.'

Silence greeted Arthur's impassioned pronouncement, even Merlin was a little stunned by his fervour. This was the second time in a week that he had seen Arthur become the "Once and Future King" Kilgharrah had prophesied him to be all those years ago. Kilgharrah's words, _together you will unite the land of Albion,_ echoed through his head. At the time that goal had seemed an unattainable ideal but here and now the first steps were being taken. Arthur was becoming the man he was born to be, just as Merlin was.

Predictably it was Alric who broke the silence.

'Your father would never have entertained such a notion. Are you trying to imply he has given his sanction to this course of action? I wasn't aware he was receiving anyone.'

'The Regent is not just anyone,' Gaius spoke for the first time, tone measured and self assured. 'Prince Arthur requested he be allowed to visit this morning and since Uther expressed a desire to see his son I raised no objection. They spent several hours in discussion and Uther is now resting.'

'And?' Alric said, shooting Arthur a pointed look.

'My father raised no objections to any of the plans I discussed with him this morning,' Arthur replied, meeting Alric's eyes squarely, inwardly thanking any gods in the vicinity that he'd had enough foresight to put together such a sentence in advance. He wasn't about to lie to achieve what was necessary but there were always ways to put things if you just thought about it.

'None at all?'

'Not one.' Arthur's gaze was unwavering and his voice steady. No-one doubted the truth of his words.

'Well if Uther hasn't objected to this I can't see how we can,' Sir Leon said briskly. 'I can't deny the truth of Prince Arthur's assessment of our strength at present, or rather the lack of it and this would seem to be the only way to get us safely though harvest and the coming winter without further loss of life.'

'That's if the other Kingdoms co-operate.' Alric said grudgingly. 'I mean, if they were in the same predicament we wouldn't answer such a call.'

The denials and disbelieving snorts which greeted that comment filled the chamber, even Lord Pellam rounding on Alric with a look of disgust.

'We follow the Knight's code.' Sir Ector said once the tumult had died down. 'We don't ignore a call for aid. Neither will they.'

'That's settled then,' Arthur said serenely, nodding to the clerk who had been noting down what was said. 'Council dismissed.'

xxxxxxxxxx

Merlin paused as he crossed the courtyard the next day, noting the grey black clouds on the eastern horizon with a grimace. It wouldn't affect the four messengers he and Arthur had seen off just after dawn, they were travelling either west or north and would now be hours ahead of what looked like a nasty storm. No, it was the lone rider somewhere between Camelot and Ealdor that Merlin was worried for. He was almost certain the man should be on his way back but no-one sensible would ride through weather like that so Merlin could probably assume he wouldn't hear anything until tomorrow at the earliest. I need to learn to scry, he thought to himself firmly, adding that skill to an ever growing mental list of things he needed to practice and vowing that tonight he'd pay another visit to the empty, unguarded cavern deep below ground where there was little possibility of being discovered. The feeling of helplessness which had almost crippled him two nights ago had faded after he'd acted on his brainwave and he was determined to ensure he would not feel like that ever again. He'd intended to go back last night but, unexpectedly, he'd fallen asleep almost as soon as he'd lain down, only waking when the first light of dawn crept pinkly across the sky. He felt fresher than he had in weeks and now he had a proper plan of action his confidence was returning. The next time Camelot was attacked he would be more than ready and when Morgana resurfaced she wouldn't be facing a half trained boy. No, Merlin would be ready for her and she would be fighting a man who commanded a set of skills equal to his prodigious power.

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><p><strong>Kizzia: Reviews? Go on, you know you want to. Please!<strong>


	5. SE2  In thee I trust  Part I

**Disclaimer: Don't own, making no money, no copyright infringement intended.**

**Kizzia: Well, this one is for Jane Mays who has sent me encouraging little messages asking me to UPDATE THE STORY (yup, my posting schedule went straight out the window – life and writing deadlines, don't you just love them). I also have to shout out to PoiPig for her totally fab review which made me dance a happy dance – Poi, you are fabulous. Also for The 10-11 Doctors who wanted to know what was happening with Hunith! Hope you enjoy it!**

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><p><span>Sub-Episode 2 – In Thee I Trust – Part I<span>

Arthur quietly left Uther's bedchamber, followed by an exhausted looking Gwen.

'I'm so sorry you're still having to look after him,' Arthur said, pushing one of Gwen's dark curls behind her ear. 'I thought by now …'

'I know.' Gwen caught his hand in her own, drawing him closer. 'I did too but, as Gaius said, these things take time. I'll take care of him until he's well - however long it takes. I truly don't mind.'

'But it's been five months,' Arthur caught his lower lip between his teeth, worrying at it for a second. 'I know you have Hunith to take care of you but still, I didn't mean to place this burden on you.'

'I took it willingly, Arthur,' Gwen slid her hand into the hair at the nape of Arthur's neck. 'I'll always be here to share your burdens.' She pressed her lips to his as he wrapped his arms round her and for a moment their troubles were forgotten.

'Igraine?' a reedy voice pulled them back to the present and Arthur sighed as Gwen pulled away.

'Gaius is coming later to give him a sleeping draught. I'll get some sleep then. Please don't worry Arthur, you've got enough to deal with.'

'Igraine!'

She shot him one last smile before hurrying back to Uther's side, leaving Arthur to make his way out of the antechamber alone.

xoxOxox

Merlin shivered as he made his way to Arthur's chambers, making a mental note to take the Prince up on his offer of having a new jerkin made. Although the first snows of winter had been late, now that they were here they were making up for lost time and Merlin, for one, was not pleased. Throwing a disgusted look at the window, where the huge flakes were hurtling past on their way to the ground, he knelt at the hearth to rekindle the fire. A sudden gust of wind caught the window, opening it with a bang and sending a flurry of snow straight into the hearth. As the flames leapt and spat Merlin's gaze was drawn into the darkness in the heart of the flames and an image began to form …

… _there was snow there, too. A blizzard's worth. Adding another layer to ground and a castle already thickly coated, like a cake too heavily iced. Not a castle such as Camelot, no, there was no beauty in this place; just harsh grey stones, barren and bleak. It was a place that would evoke the memory of winter even in the height of summer and Merlin shuddered despite himself._

_The image shifted, closing in on a window high above the main doors where a man stood. Thick black hair and beard emphasizing rugged features and eyes all the shades of a raven's wing, mutable, ever changing but cold. He was tall, well built and held himself straight and proud despite being swathed in furs. Merlin didn't need to see the circlet on his brow to know that this man was a King._

_'So, Blaise, are you going to give me the benefit of your wisdom?' he said, turning back into the room and addressing a hooded and cloaked figure standing by the door. Apart from a large chair the room was bare of furniture. Only a shield above the unlit hearth adorned the empty space. 'I can't imagine that this is purely a social call.'_

_'I had come to assist the Lady Morgana in her latest … experiment to alleviate her sister's condition and she informed me of your generous offer. I only wished to ascertain whether I had understood her correctly, Sire.' Blaise gave a short bow and pushed his hood back. The face that was revealed was hawk-like in the extreme, piercing amber eyes and a sharp beak of a nose gave the impression that he was poised to swoop on anything, no matter how small, the instant it was unguarded. Even the white hair and wrinkled skin didn't diminish the feeling of power he projected. Not that the King appeared even slightly overawed._

_'And how is the delectable Morgause?'_

_'I can only imagine how she has suffered,' the insincerity in Blaise's tone at odds with the druidic symbols at his neck and wrists, 'but I must commend the Lady Morgana's diligence and creativity in seeking a stop gap until the ritual can be performed. This latest spell seems to have mitigated most of the effects.'_

_'Yes, the ritual. I was intrigued to find out that you came up with it. Such an arcane piece of magic and yet so … aligned with both Morgana's and my aspirations. You outdo yourself.'_

_'You are pleased to joke, my Lord. The ritual is about returning Morgause to full health, nothing more.'_

_'And you are the consummate politician.'_

_Blaise gave another low bow, 'I hold allegiance to you, Lot. Nothing will shake that, but can the same be said for the Sisters?'_

_'Ah, you are worried for my safety. How touching … but you are wasting your time. I may not trust them but I trust my vassal. He has drawn Morgana to him like nectar draws a bee and he has no love for Camelot. He will slip in, unnoticed, un-remarked, and then, when the time is right … Morgana will get her wish, Morgause will be cured and I will have the means to control the whole of Albion. You understood her entirely Blaise, and she understood me. I simply have not made her aware of all I hope to achieve through her.'_

_'But even so …'_

_'Do not question me,' Lot's voice was icy as the castle walls. 'There are things I will not reveal … even to you, Druid. But know this. I do not make mistakes.'_

_'Then let us hope no-one else makes any, for …'_

Another gust of wind wrapped round the frame, crashing it against the wall; the clatter broke his trance, pulling Merlin abruptly from the vision. Stumbling, he made his way to the window and shut it fast before attempting to clear the melting snow from the room. His head was buzzing, thoughts jumbled, as he tried to make sense of what he had Seen. Why now? He wondered, reluctantly returning to the fire and building it up, trying to get the chill out of the room and the fear out of his mind. I've been trying to master Seeing for months, without success. What happened just then to force the Sight on me?

'What happened in here?' Arthur's voice echoed across the chamber, making Merlin drop a log in fright. 'The snow is supposed to stay on the outside, _Mer_lin!'

Merlin managed to plaster a grin on his face, hiding the grimace of pain as his head started to pound, and shrugged.

'The window blew open and I only just found it. I'll have the room warm in no time.'

'Are you alright?' Arthur took Merlin by the shoulders and examined his face. 'You look like you've seen a ghost.'

'Just cold, Sire.'

'Now I know there's something wrong. Since when do you call me Sire when we're alone?'

'Um …'

'Right, now tell me what's wrong.'

'Honestly, Arthur, I'm …'

'Tell Me What Is Wrong.' Arthur enunciated each word as if talking to a simpleton and then closed his eyes briefly. The strain on his face made Merlin swallow hard and scramble for something, anything to say. Unfortunately his mind was still on what he'd just witnessed.

'King Lot,' he blurted out, only just managing not to clap his hands to his mouth when he realised what he'd said. 'I … yes, I heard … um … Gaius, mention a King Lot. I was just wondering about him. See, I've never heard of him.'

Arthur dropped into his chair, giving Merlin an appraising look but just receiving another shrug in response.

'Well, your lack of knowledge isn't surprising and neither is your lack of sense. Why didn't you didn't ask Gaius at the time?'

'I … wasn't thinking. I was … late and then it just popped back into my head. Just now.' Merlin tried another grin and this time Arthur returned it properly.

'Fine, Lot of Lothian. Hmmm … if I tell you will you help me sort those reports?' Arthur gestured to his desk where a significant stack of paper was being held in place by his ceremonial dagger.

'I _always_ help you with the reports.' Merlin quirked an eyebrow at the Prince, putting his hands on his hips and trying to look indignant.

'Point taken. Sit down then, you're making the place look untidy.' Merlin snorted but sat anyway, as Arthur's voice took on the cadence of a story teller. 'The Wolf of Lothian - black hair and a blacker heart. Always swathed in furs and darkness. He came to the throne at fifteen, over the still warm body of his father if the gossips can be believed, and he was strong enough, even then, to hold the north against the Picts. He's wily, cunning and vicious and accustomed to getting what he wants. I feel sorry for the people living round that miserable rock he inhabits. Compassion and fairness are not his strong suits. Nor are chivalry or honour, certainly not where woman are concerned.'

'You've met him?' Merlin interrupted, trying to control the panic welling up in him at Arthur's words.

'Gods no! I'm just telling you what I was told by my tutors. I never had any desire to go visiting, even if Father would have allowed it. I mean would you, when they have weather like this,' Arthur waved a derogatory hand at the window, 'for over half the year? Besides Lot has never shown any interest in us whatsoever, for which I'm eternally grateful. Somehow I don't think we'd get along.'

'What did your father think of him?' Merlin prompted when Arthur appeared to have finished.

'Father abhorred him. It was believed he used to welcome those with magic to his court - unofficially, of course. Mind you, I suspect the feeling was mutual, my first tutor told me that Lot had been gearing up to ride out against Vortigern and take Camelot when Father returned to reclaim the kingdom.'

Merlin nodded, the movement exacerbating the pain in his head. Wincing visibly he decided he needed to change the subject before his brain exploded. 'How is your father today?'

Arthur's face crumpled. 'He's still calling for my mother and thinks Gwen is his old nurse. Won't let anyone but her near him, apart from me and Gaius. Doesn't even trust his food unless Gwen feeds it to him.' Arthur's face froze and he stood abruptly, heading over to his desk. 'But this won't get these reports sorted. Come here and give me a hand.'

Merlin threw a baleful look at the fire, fingers circling his temples, before following silently in Arthur's wake, accepting the dismissal of the painful subject. Taking the bundle of parchments that was thrust at him he settled himself next to his friend. If he got this sorted quickly he might be able to get a few hours to himself this afternoon. He needed some peace to try and work out just what it was he had witnessed in the flames and what, if anything, he could do about it.

xoxOxox

Hunith gently draped the covers over Gwen, watching her face relax as she dropped off to sleep. Deftly removing a brick out the fire and wrapping it in a blanket, Hunith tucked it next to the exhausted woman's feet; she didn't want the poor thing to wake from the cold, not when she so badly needed the rest. Tugging the curtains closed round the bed she beckoned to the young serving maid waiting by the door.

'Wait by the fire, Seren, and keep it fed. When Gwen wakes make sure she has a draught of the herbal infusion in that kettle and then fetch her some food. I'll be back by the hour after sunset.'

The little girl nodded, face serious, as she plumped herself down on the stool and concentrated fiercely on the bed. Hunith smiled at the show of devotion, knowing that she was lucky to have Seren's help so she could have an afternoon off every week. Some of the servants couldn't afford the loss of an afternoon's pay but between Merlin, Gwen and the Prince she no longer had that problem.

Reaching the entrance hall she pulled her cloak round her against the grasping fingers of the icy wind, venturing hesitantly out into the courtyard. As she almost lost her footing two steps out she realised with dismay that the paths, which had been cleared that morning, were already freezing up again. She was gingerly crossing a patch of black ice by the water pump when the sound of hooves made her look up. Sir Lancelot and Sir Percival were riding back though the lower town, followed by several wagons filled with supplies. If Merlin had been riding between the two knights they would have looked exactly as they had done when they rode into Ealdor four months ago, bringing those left in the village much needed aid and hope.

All the men in Ealdor had been taken by Cenred's army as they passed through, those who resisted being dealt with swiftly and harshly, including any women who had tried to prevent their men going. Those left behind who could leave had done so but she had remained, unwilling to leave those injured or sick to the mercy of the elements. More to the point, where would she have gone? She'd heard what the army was intended to do and whilst she knew her son was powerful she had never imagined he could endure against men who could not die. She had no-one else to go to, so she stayed and did what she could.

While she and Merlin - who had flung himself off his horse and into her arms the minute he had seen her - had hugged and surreptitiously checked each other for signs of injury, the two knights had dismounted and attracted the attention of the villagers. They then announced that Prince Arthur had sent them to escort all those who wished to come to Camelot, since he would be honoured to offer a new life to the people who had so staunchly fought beside him to defend what was theirs.

In the whirl of packing and organising Hunith hadn't really noticed how respectful the two knights were being to the villagers. However, by the time anything worth saving had been loaded into one of the wagons, those who were incapable of walking had been settled in the other, and the ruins of Ealdor were fading into the distance, Hunith had realised the two knights were anything but ordinary.

Over the course of the journey Merlin and Lancelot had told her the story of the Lady Morgana's treachery and how Lancelot and Percival – who was listening silently - had become involved and their rapport with commoners became self explanatory. She could also see that there was a strong bond between her son and Lancelot and she had confirmed her suspicions as to what the bond rested on once she'd arrived at Camelot. Lancelot had been helping her to move her meagre possessions into Gwen's house when she'd asked him when he'd learnt the truth about Merlin. She would have been angry with Merlin for letting his secret slip so soon into his time in Camelot but there was something so reassuring about Lancelot, something so genuinely noble, that she couldn't help but be glad that Merlin had someone else to look out for him.

Jolted out of her remembrances by the greetings of the two knights she waved back before hurrying to get into the house and out of the cold. She still couldn't think of it as her house, no matter what Gwen had said on the matter. When she'd first arrived Gwen was still living in the lower town and had insisted that Hunith stay with her. She'd only thought it was a temporary measure until she'd earned enough from her post in the palace kitchens to be able to rent somewhere herself but then Gwen had taken over the King's care full time.

With Gwen living in the palace she'd insisted that Hunith remain in the house which, thanks to Prince Arthur, was already rent free and then the Prince had approached her himself to ask if she would mind becoming Gwen's servant. Well, Arthur had actually asked her to be Gwen's handmaiden but she couldn't ever think of herself like that. As she'd said to the Prince, surprising a very ignoble snort out of him, she hadn't been a maiden for a long time. The rest of the palace staff envied or pitied her in equal measure; either jealous of her position at the side of the only servant tolerated by the King or treating her as dirt because she was the servant of a servant and not worth their time.

Hunith didn't mind either reaction, she didn't care what other people thought. All that mattered to her was that she had a job, a roof over her head and her son, his friends and Gaius close by. She'd missed Merlin so much in the four years he'd lived in Camelot and she was determined to make the best of the time they had now. Smiling, she relit the fire before heading to the wood store at the back of the house. If he had time, he'd come down to see her this afternoon and she wanted to make sure she had something to offer him when he arrived.

xoxOxox

Arthur sat at his desk, drumming his fingers on the surface. The reports were done and he'd sent Merlin away half an hour ago with instructions to get a pain relieving draught from Gaius and then to spend the afternoon with Hunith. If he was going to do this, now was the time. Merlin wouldn't be back until after night fall so he wouldn't be interrupted. Trouble was, just like the six previous times he'd contemplated this course of action, he simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

Gwen was right, he thought dispiritedly, if you don't admit to things at the beginning trying to explain why you waited makes the task all the more impossible. His father's face loomed in his mind, thin and emaciated, closely followed by Gwen's. Her face no less beautiful to him despite the dark circles under her eyes and a small frown line that seemed almost permanent these days. I need to do this for them, for her. And for myself.

He drained his goblet of wine and stood, trying to gather his resolve. All I have to do is go to Gaius, tell him I know he healed Morgana and ask him to do the same for father. He reached his door but could go no further. Hypocrite, his mind screamed at him. You yelled at your father for breaking his own laws and yet here you are going to do the same yourself. He pulled his hand from the latch as if he'd been burned and slumped heavily against the wood. Why is this so hard?

His mind replayed the conversation he'd had with Merlin all those months ago, resting once again on the appalling allegory. An image of Gaius as a dog, with big floppy ears and waggly tail, popped into his mind and he began to laugh, laugh until the tears ran down his cheeks and then he was sobbing; curling into a ball like he had a boy when the pressure of being Prince Arthur had gotten too much. Eventually the sobs gave way to wheezing breaths and he could stand, staggering over to his window. The snow had stopped falling and the grey light gave Camelot an ethereal glow, enhancing the elegant lines of the towers and crenulations. Even the gargoyles and grotesques seemed less frightening which their little white caps. Magical, he thought, the irony not lost on him.

A man, carrying a child on his shoulders crossed the courtyard and the ache for what he had lost intensified. He had no family left now and despite Merlin, Gwen and the knights he'd never felt so alone. I have to do what is right, he told himself, brushing the last of the tears away with his sleeve. I can't break the laws, regardless of the fact my father has done so and nor can I change them while he is alive. I have to wait and hope and do the best for my people. The responsibility is mine and only mine. As he gazed at the rooftops he saw a hawk circling one of the towers before gliding toward the lower town and he wished, not for the first time, that he could have that sort of freedom, if only for an hour.

xoxOxox

At the northern edge of the Darkling woods two mounted men, snugly wrapped in dark blue hooded cloaks, passed beneath the first branches of the outlying trees.

'Sir, are you sure we should enter here now? We'll never make it out before night fall.'

'Scared, Joren?' The older man asked, flexing cold fingers inside fine leather gloves. 'I'd not have brought you if I'd known you were a coward.'

'I am not a coward.' Joren boosted himself in the saddle, glaring at his companion from under his hood as he pushed a lock of blond hair back into its confines. 'I was simply wondering if we should make camp here. It is almost nightfall after all.'

'We make camp when I say so and not a moment before.' The man snapped, urging his horse into a trot.

'Of course, Sir Agravaine,' Joren replied, trying to push images of hungry wolves and bears from his mind and ignore the shadow darkness beneath the trees. 'I meant no disrespect.'

'Don't worry Joren,' Agravaine called back, white teeth glinting as he smiled. 'Tomorrow night we'll be in Camelot and the worst you'll have to fend off then are over eager serving girls.'

'Who says I'll want to?' Joren replied with a grin every bit as wicked as Agravaine's. Their laugher echoed through the trees as they pushed deeper into the wood and closer to their destination.

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><p><strong>Kizzia PBO: Well, hope it was worth the wait XD. Part II will be up within a week. <strong>

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	6. SE2 In thee I trust Part II

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin, not for profit etc. ad nauseum. **

**NEW AUTHORS NOTE ADDED AT BOTTOM ON 17 JUNE - PLEASE CHECK FOR NEWS OF UPDATES**

**Kizzia: Sorry this is late again! It's been written for ages but I just couldn't get it to a point where I was happy with it. To be honest I'm still not but I couldn't justify holding on to it for any longer.**

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><p><span>Sub-Episode 2 – In Thee I Trust – Part II<span>

'… and I don't know what to do.' Merlin finished quietly, hands wrapped around the mug of mulled cider. He hadn't meant to tell her anything at all but the minute she'd welcomed him with a hug, enveloping him in smells of lavender, baking and home, he'd sat down at the table and let it all come tumbling out.

'I'm not sure what to say,' Hunith searched her son's face, noting his pained expression and the way he avoided her eyes. 'I didn't even realise you were able to do things like that.'

'I'm not, well, I've never managed it before … despite all my efforts.' Merlin sighed, eyes fixed on his fingers, which were drumming on the table. 'The only time I've Seen things they've been images in crystal, tantalising glimpses of the future but incoherent, fractured. Since I've been trying to scry through reflections I've seen nothing, no matter how long I persevere.' He took a sip of cider before continuing but now his voice was louder, slightly shrill. 'I wasn't even using magic. The vision came straight from the flames, not just a picture but a whole play set, dialogue and all. It was as if I was actually there, an invisible watcher. It felt so real, I was convinced that it was happening as I saw it but …' his fingers worried at a seam of his neckerchief '… now I'm not sure. How can I accept something when I don't know where it came from?'

'Have you spoken to Gaius about this?' Hunith asked softly. Merlin took another sip from his mug, his whole frame tense.

'Merlin?'

'The last time something like this happened I made a huge mess of things. Gaius warned me that crystals can be treacherous, that the images shouldn't be trusted but I tried to change what I thought was going to happen. I … I made the future I feared come to pass and put him in an awful position. I don't think I can stand to worry him like that again.'

'But you've just said this wasn't the same.'

'No, but … how did I suddenly get this ability. It doesn't feel right. What if it was sent to confuse me? What if it's meant to distract me from what is really happening?'

'Is that possible?'

Merlin's fingers went to his temples, making small circles as he spoke, 'I don't know. There are so many things I don't know. I can sense magic when it's being used on me or around me and I didn't pick up a thing. Which isn't as comforting as it should be, since there are cloaking spells which can hide the presence of magic if the caster is powerful enough to do so. Camelot has the kind of enemies that have such power.'

Hunith's eyes had widened and her skin paled, 'But how would they know to use such spells on you? I thought your secret was still well kept.'

'Within Camelot, yes, but I attacked Morgause with magic and I've no idea if Morgana saw me. Besides, I've got in their way so many times I'm pretty certain they'll at least suspect me of magic. Tricking me into thinking they are a long way away and that Morgause is injured would certainly be beneficial if they are planning another attack on Camelot in the near future. It has a certain twisted logic to it.'

'So you don't trust this vision?'

'No, but I can't dismiss it out of hand either. I can't imagine that either of them would use a man no-one ever mentions here as the main part of the vision. I'd never even heard of Lot of Lothian until this morning. If they were trying to trick me why wouldn't they use an enemy I was aware of, like Alined or Alvarr? Why mention someone infiltrating Camelot at all? Plus everything that Arthur told me about Lot tallied with what I saw of the man in the vision and I do trust Arthur.'

'What does your heart tell you?'

'That it was real. That Morgause is alive but ill, Morgana is plotting again and that she has found a far more powerful ally than Cenred ever was.'

'So?' Hunith prompted when Merlin lapsed into brooding silence.

'I have to find this vassal and I have to stop them.' He dropped his head onto the table with an audible thunk, muttering 'any suggestions?' into the woodwork.

Hunith reached out and stroked Merlin's hair, wishing she could offer something more than a mother's love.

'I don't know, sweetling, I'm sorry.'

Merlin lifted his head and smiled, although Hunith could see it was forced.

'I'm the one who should be apologising. I shouldn't burden you with things like this. Besides, I'm not really worried, I'll figure it out - I always do.'

'Well I'm always here if you need someone to talk to,' she smiled, pushing a plate of apple pasties in front of him, 'but in the meantime, have one of these. There's not point in you being hungry while you pretend everything is fine.'

'There's no fooling you, is there,' Merlin mumbled round a mouthful of sweet pastry.

'No,' Hunith stood, brushing down her apron and clearing away the empty mugs, 'now eat up. We need to be getting back to the castle, it's almost time for the evening meal.'

'Yff,' Merlin shoved the last of the pasty into his mouth, scattering crumbs everywhere as he spoke round it. 'Gofs forbib Arfur wath for hif foof.'

Hunith shook her head, trying not to laugh at his antics. He may be a powerful warlock but her Merlin still had the capacity to act like a child and she wouldn't have him any other way.

xoxOxox

Gwen hurriedly gulped down her last few mouthfuls of stew, knowing full well that the draught Gaius had given Uther would not keep him asleep for much longer.

She'd sent little Seren back to the kitchens, still uncomfortable being waited on as if she were a lady, and the awe with which the little girl treated her. Not that she wasn't grateful for everything Seren and Hunith did - she was so busy these days that she appreciated every little bit of help she got – but she was still a servant, a commoner, and this was not the sort of life she was used to. Her eyes roamed the small chamber as she tidied her hair, taking in all the little luxuries that been appearing since she'd moved in. The fur rug in front of the hearth that had arrived the first week, the rocking chair set by the window for when she had time to sew, complete with plush cushions and a new basket of needles and threads; all finer than anything she'd ever owned herself. Then there were the three new dresses which had been delivered from the palace tailors with a note declaring them to be from Sir William of Deira "in thanks for her hospitality so long ago", not to mention the piles of embroidered coverlets which had turned up two hours after the first snow of winter had begun to fall. She'd tried to remonstrate with Arthur at first, tried to explain that he didn't need to give her such gifts, that she didn't need such things. He'd claimed ignorance and then a kiss and she'd accepted everything else with good grace, knowing it was his way of showing how he felt and he wouldn't be dissuaded.

As she made her way down the corridor between her room and the King's she acknowledged that, despite all her protestations, there was a part of her that was thrilled each time Arthur did something like that, his declarations of love without words. _Goddess only knows we have little enough time together_, she thought, remembering their kiss that morning with bittersweet longing.

Uther was still sleeping when she entered his bed chamber but his eyes were flickering and his mouth was moving, shaping words she couldn't hear. Moving quietly she lit the candles before pulling the drapes over the window, shutting out the night sky and bitter draft, and then readying a goblet of well watered wine, knowing from long experience that it would be the first thing he asked for.

'Brisen?'

'Sire,' she responded, helping him to sit up in bed. She didn't bother to correct him any more, it made everything worse.

'Drink?'

He eyed the goblet she proffered with suspicion, 'What's that?'

'Just wine, Sire, exactly how you like it.'

'You made it?'

'Yes, I made it. It's perfectly safe.'

'You can't trust anyone,' Uther shrank back into his pillows, eyes darting round the room, 'there are enemies everywhere.'

'But not in here.' Gwen lifted the goblet to his lips. 'Come on, I know you're thirsty.'

Uther gulped the wine clumsily, trickles of red running over his chin. 'S'good.' he said as he finished.

Gwen wiped his face briskly, concentrating on not letting the pity show on her face. This was no life for anyone, least of all a man who had once been a strong and powerful King. She wondered, as she laid blankets over his chair, whether she was strange not to hate him, not to revel in his misfortune. After all, this man had ordered her fathers death and had almost had her executed as a witch, twice; no one would blame her for wanting him to suffer. She didn't though, she never had and she found a perverse comfort in that fact.

'Brisen, are we safe?'

'Yes dear,' she said absently, mind still years in the past. 'Of course.'

'But the witch?' She pulled herself back to the present as Uther lauched himself out of bed, casting about the room like a bloodhound searching for a scent. 'We must find the witch.'

'Uther,' Gwen moved into his path, gripping his hands. 'Listen to me.'

'But …'

'Listen to me.'

He stilled, eyes fixed on hers. He was shaking although Gwen couldn't tell whether it was from fright or from the cold as he was clad only in a rough cotton nightshirt.

'The witch is gone. Arthur, your son Arthur, he beat her.'

'Arthur?'

'Yes, you remember, he came to see you this morning.' Gwen looked away, leading him to the chair and tucking the blankets around him before getting his feet into his shoes. 'He is keeping us safe.'

Uther gave a nod but there was no recognition in his eyes, no sign that he actually knew who she was talking about. _At least Arthur wasn't here to see that,_ she thought bleakly, beginning to remake the bed. She finished straightening the sheet on the mattress and had just started on the pillows when Uther spoke.

''You're Guinevere,' his voice had lost the reedy note and she spun round in shock, meeting eyes that were far more focused than they'd been for months.

'Yes my Lord,' she dropped into a curtsey, wondering what was coming next.

'My Arthur, he's in love with you.' It wasn't a question, thankfully, since Gwen was too astounded to speak.

'You love him too.' Uther was smiling, a genuine smile that frightened her even as she returned it. 'That's good. He needs someone to love him, to be there for him. You'll look after him, wont you?'

'Y …' Gwen swallowed and tried again. 'Yes Sire. I will always take care of him.'

'Good. I trust you …' his voice faded, his eyes clouding again and he seemed to shrink as she watched.

'Sire?'

'Brisen?'

Gwen swallowed hard, 'Yes, I'm here.'

'Good, trust you. You … you're loyal.'

'Yes,' she bit her lip, going back to the bed and brushing away a stray tear that had managed to escape her self control. When she turned back around she had a bright smile on her face. 'Would you like me to fetch you some dinner now, my Lord?'

xoxOxox

As it turned out, Arthur's evening meal was significantly delayed and not, for once, due to Merlin's suspect timekeeping. Merlin had just finished laying the food – roast pork and some sort of vegetable stew – in front of Arthur when there was a hammering on the door.

'Come,' Arthur shot a reproving look at the door.

'Sire, I'm sorry to intrude,' it was Ulfin, one of the soldiers King Tewdrig had sent to help Camelot over the winter, 'but the southern patrol have just returned. They found two travellers in the woods and have escorted them into the Citadel. The older traveller bears arms as a Knight but refused to state his name or business here, insisting he will only reveal such information to the King. The younger man hasn't spoken.'

Arthur gave the pork a longing look as he stood, 'Where are they now?'

'In the small vestibule by the main entrance. Sir Leon and Sir Lancelot are guarding them and their horses have been placed in the stables.'

'Very well, please inform Sir Leon that I will greet them within the hour. Please also get one of the servants to fetch wine and whatever snacks the cook has available to offer our visitors and take them directly to the council chamber, enough for six people.'

'Yes Sire,' Ulfin bowed, sandy hair and beard glinting in the candlelight, and was gone.

'Are these kingly enough?' Merlin waved a black silk shirt and a gold tunic with black and gold brocade edging at Arthur, smiling inwardly at the look of surprise on Arthur's face. He obviously hadn't noticed Merlin move from the table.

'Thanks,' Arthur disappeared behind his dressing screen, 'and can I have ..'

'Your circlet and cloak, I know.'

Arthur's response was lost in the fabric of the tunic he was pulling over his head but Merlin wasn't paying attention. Was it coincidence that these travellers had arrived on the same day as the vision? Well, they arrived from the south rather than the north, which was some comfort and they certainly hadn't "slipped in unnoticed and un-remarked". No, there wasn't any need for panic just yet, not until he knew more.

'How do I look?' Arthur stepped out from behind the screen, fingers still working on the cuffs of the shirt.

'Here,' Merlin tugged the collar into place before standing back to look the Prince over. He made a fine picture, the black silk setting off the gold of his skin and hair and the tunic drawing the eye from well defined shoulders to trim waist. 'I suppose you'll do.'

Arthur raised his eyebrows but didn't respond. As Merlin handed him the circlet and fastened the cloak round Arthur's shoulders his curiosity got the better of him: 'Who do you imagine they are?'

'Probably some jumped up noble from Alined's kingdom, officially here to proffer Alined's Midwinter greetings to us and unofficially, well, I'm sure whoever it is will be taking a full report back when he can finally leave. They'll be here for a good couple of months now, given the weather.' Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder. 'Stop looking so worried, please, we'll just keep an eye on them. Now, could you find Gaius and bring him to the council chambers please. I want both of you there when I greet them. You always seem to pick up on things no one else notices and Gaius may recognise them.'

'Of course,' Merlin followed Arthur to the door, surprised by the complement Arthur apparently hadn't noticed he'd uttered, but not too surprised to keep quiet.

'Since you mention me being observant, there is one observation I've made already. If your assessment of where they are from correct then why did they demand an audience with the King. All of Alined's subjects would know what the situation is here, that you are ruling as Regent.'

'A snub to me, I should think,' Arthur wrinkled his nose, 'an attempt to gain the upper hand, much good may it do them. Now get going, the sooner we greet them the sooner I can dismiss them and have some food.'

xoxOxox

'So we've no idea who they are or why they are here?' Gaius was decanting a potion into small jars while Merlin paced the chamber, recounting all Ulfin had said and Arthur had surmised.

'No and …' Merlin paused, he'd been about to blurt out the vision but again the memory of the havoc he'd wrecked after his encounter with the crystal cave flashed into his mind again. No, Gaius wouldn't have any better idea about the vision than he had so there was no point in mentioning it at all. Yes that was it, he was just sparing Gaius unnecessary worry, not hiding from the past at all.

'And what, Merlin?'

'And …' Merlin paused again, trying to find something to plug the gap. 'It's just … I don't understand why they asked to see the King. It's common knowledge Arthur is Regent, playing at ignorance seems counterintuitive.'

Gaius put the final cork into the last jar before fixing Merlin with a shrewd look, 'What aren't you telling me?'

'Nothing,' he met his mentor's eyes, willing himself to look open and keep his voice light. 'It …. It seems strange, is all.'

'That's true enough now, I suppose.' Gaius' tone was comforting, his suspicion gone, 'But this sort of behaviour used to be quite common ten, twenty years ago amongst senior nobles when they visited other kingdoms. It was a mark of their prestige to able to demand an audience with the King without explaining themselves to his knights.'

'It's just rude if you ask me,' Merlin muttered, leg jiggling as Gaius put the jars down and slowly began to pull on his better robe. 'Shame the Patrol didn't kill them on sight and rid us of the problem.'

'Merlin!' Gaius scolded, ushering his ward towards door. 'You can't say things like that.'

'I've had a headache all day. I can say what I like.'

'Not if you want have a head at all.' Gaius chastised, grabbing a bottle from the table nearest the door. 'Here, take this.'

Merlin eyed the green liquid suspiciously. 'What is it?'

'A preparation of willow bark and feverfew, it will ease the pain.'

'Thanks, I think.' Merlin sniffed the bottle dubiously.

'Just drink.'

Merlin tipped the bottle into this mouth and tried not to gag at the bitterness of the potion. 'I think I preferred the headache.'

Gaius' eyebrows let Merlin know exactly how unimpressed their owner was with that remark, mentor and ward exiting the room in silence, Merlin repeatedly swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the vile aftertaste.

xoxOxox

Arthur was seated on the dais in the council chamber, flanked by Merlin and Gaius, with a highly imperious look on his face when the doors were opened.

'Prince Regent, your guests,' Leon announced, face schooled into polite indifference as he stepped to the room and allowed the two men, still cloaked, to enter, Lancelot close behind them.

Arthur stood, motioning for the two knights to stay on the inside of the room when they closed the doors, his hand coming to rest on the hilt of his sword in an apparently unconscious gesture.

The men shook their cloaks away from their bodies and pushed back their hoods as they moved towards him. Arthur felt a thrill of familiarity run through him at the sight, despite never having seen either of them before. The younger man was perhaps fourteen or fifteen, his white blonde hair caught in a horsetail at the nape of his neck. He was lithe, with a warrior's frame, even if he could do with filling out a bit but he was not the one Arthur felt an affinity with. It was the older man he thought he ought to know. He had dark hair, only slightly longer than Arthur's own, with a weather beaten face and eyes the colour of a storm tossed sea. The look in them seemed to scream of some unknown sorrow. Despite seeming to be of an age with Uther his frame showed no signs of the passage of time, in fact his build was closer to Arthur's – his broad shoulders strong, with well defined muscles clear even under his dark blue tunic. The younger man wore a similar one, each emblazoned with a white eagle rising from crossed swords over the chest.

'You are Arthur?' His voice was rich, velvety, but each syllable echoed with fatigue.

'Yes, I am Prince Arthur, Regent of Camelot. Will you now do me the courtesy of telling me who you are and why you are here?'

He bowed and then gestured to the youth to bow as well. 'This is my Squire, Joren of Brocéliande,' he directed a swift smile at Joren before continuing, ' and I am Sir Agravaine Du Bois and I came here to see you, nephew.'

Arthur gasped and Merlin stiffened, exchanging a worried look with Leon. Only Gaius remained impassive at the pronouncement.

'Uncle?' Arthur's voice was steady but his hands trembled slightly. 'But … but you're dead.'

For a heartbeat there was silence and then Agravaine gave a bark of laughter.

'Hah, yes. I can guess who told you that. Needless to say he was being economical with the truth.'

Arthur stepped off the dais, directly in front of Agravaine, face set. 'Swear to me that you are telling the truth, swear now, on what ever you hold most dear.'

'Sire,' Agravaine lifted his head, staring straight into Arthur's eyes. 'I swear, on the lives of my wife and daughter and the soul of your mother, that I am your Uncle, brother to Igraine and Tristan, son of Amlawdd Wledig.'

Arthur held his gaze for several minutes, the air between them crackling with tension. Finally he spoke.

'Then I welcome you with all my heart.' Arthur's voice shook with emotion but it was his next action that really shocked Merlin. He threw all protocol aside and pulling Agravaine into a strong embrace.

When they released each other Agravaine put his hands on Arthur's shoulders, looking him over with unconcealed joy. 'I should not have stayed away so long. I have missed so much.' He took a shuddering breath before continuing. 'You are very like your mother, Arthur. I see her in your eyes, your hair and your ability to love. You've grown into a fine man.'

'I …' Arthur waved a hand ineffectually, eyes suspiciously bright as he struggled to speak.

'My Lord,' Gaius moved to Arthur's side, face still free of expression. 'The hour grows late and your guests must be weary. Why don't you adjourn to the solar with Sir Agravaine? A meal can be served to you there while you talk.'

'Yes, thank you Gaius. That's an eminently sensible suggestion.' Arthur gestured to Sir Leon. 'Please instruct the servants to prepare adjoining chambers for my Uncle and his squire and ensure that Joren is given food and a warm bath as soon as is practicable. Lancelot you can return to your usual duties.'

Leon nodded and gestured to Joren who, after professing his thanks and bowing again, followed him and Lancelot from the room.

'Uncle, please come with me.' Arthur and Agravaine moved towards the door, only for Arthur to stop and turn when Merlin followed.

'I won't need you to tonight. Just get one of the kitchen boys to bring up a large platter and several jugs of wine and we'll serve ourselves.'

'Oh,' Merlin tried not to sound as concerned as he felt. 'Of course. If you're sure.'

'Quite sure,' Arthur's face seemed to glow from within at his next words. 'I want to spend some quality time with my family.'

Merlin eyes shone gold as he murmured 'Hræd eac galdor innan mic bréostgeþane gif Arthur sy beŌt fram gædeling' at Arthur's retreating back.

'Was that what I thought it was?' Gaius asked quietly from Merlin's side.

'Yes, it'll only hold for a couple of hours but if Sir Agravaine so much as _thinks_ of harming Arthur I'll know.'

'Good,' Gaius's voice sounded so strange Merlin took a proper look at him and realised that he was trembling, his face paler than he'd ever seen it.

'What is it? What's the matter?'

'Not here,' Gaius tried to smile but only managed a small grimace. 'Go and sort out the food as quick as you can. We can talk after.'

Merlin nodded, already darting towards the door. 'Don't worry, Gaius. I've looked after him this long. I won't let it slip now.'

* * *

><p><strong>Kizzia: So there you have it, another part done. <strong>

**Oh and as for the potion Gaius gives Merlin, Willow bark contains the same compounds as Aspirin and Feverfew is still used in some migraine treatments today.**

**Please review, I'm really, really not sure whether this was even remotely worth posting!**

_**Authors note added 17th June: I've had a disaster and SE2 Part III has been lost into the flash drive of death - I've got my notes but the 4,567 words that were ready for posting are no more. I would try and rehash it tonight before I disappear to the wilds of Somerset and a distinct lack of internet connection but even typing this is difficult as my left wrist is strapped to stop me crying in pain. Gods know what I've done to it but I am not a happy bunny. **_

_**Hopefully two weeks off will cure all and then you can have lots of chapters in July. Again, apologies and don't give up on me. This will be finished before S4 does! K x **_


	7. SE3 In thee I trust Part III

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin, not for profit etc. ad nauseum.**

**Kizzia: The last bit before I launch into Season 4 proper, which will be a two parter as the Season Opener is predicted to be, between 4 - 6 parts in all - depending on where it breaks best.**

**Holiday was lovely, btw, v relaxing and inspiring and my wrist is fixed. Thanks to all the lovely people who reviewed the last chapter and sent me PM's – really appreciate it.**

* * *

><p><span>Sub-Episode 2 – In Thee I Trust – Part III<span>

Agravaine looked on in bemusement as Arthur threw open the door of the solar, gestured for him to sit in one of the large chairs by the window and then began feeding the banked fire. Of all the things he'd thought to encounter on his arrival in Camelot, Igraine's eyes staring at him from the male counterpart of her face had not been one of them. From what he'd been told about his nephew he'd been expecting to see Uther in miniature; from his looks to his unbending outlook on the world and strict adherence to the protocols of rank. This smiling, good natured man who was currently acting like a Squire rather than a Regent was so far from the picture he'd held in his mind he wondered if he might be dreaming. A knock on the door heralded the arrival of a kitchen boy, some food and confirmation that he wasn't asleep via the smell of spiced wine filling his nostrils. Arthur thanked the boy, shooed him from the room and began to lay the food out himself. Belatedly Agravaine realised he should stop Arthur, make some effort to assist, but as he went to rise his nephew's hands were once again on his shoulders, gently pressing him back into the chair.

'You must be tired, Uncle,' Arthur's eyes roamed every inch of his face and he had to fight not to flinch at the scrutiny. 'This is no weather for travelling.'

'It is not fitting that you should serve me, however tired I am.' he began, only to have a cup of the wine pressed into his hands. 'I may be your Uncle but you are the King.'

'Regent,' Arthur corrected swiftly as he sat. 'But that doesn't matter here and now. What matters is that you're here and that we can talk.'

'And eat,' Agravaine looked towards the plates on the table behind Arthur, hoping the stalling tactic would work. 'I was informed by one of your Knights that my arrival had interrupted your evening meal. You must be hungry.'

'And I haven't been travelling for Gods know how long! You must be famished and here I am talking at you,' Arthur turned to get the plates, missing the lightening smile that flashed across Agravaine's face. 'Please eat.'

'Thank you,' he said simply, accepting his plate with a nod, his mind already making the most of his brief respite as he tried to decide how to proceed.

xoxOxox

'Gaius, stop!' Merlin stepped in front of his mentor to prevent him completing another erratic circuit of his chambers, breath still burning in his chest from the mad dash to the kitchens and back. 'Just tell me what's going on.'

'It's not that simple.' Gaius sank onto the nearest stool with a sigh that seemed to come from his boots. 'I'm not sure where to start.'

'The beginning?' Merlin plopped down onto the bench in front of the physician, disappointed not to even raise a smile from the old man.

'Well … the beginning … I should have told you after Arthur nearly … but I didn't think it would matter …'

'Gaius please,' Merlin laid a hand on Gaius' arm, 'be calm. You're frightening me.'

Gaius looked every one of his advanced years as he gave Merlin a beseeching look. 'I'm sorry Merlin, I just … it's all to do with Arthur's birth. It's time I told you the whole story...'

xoxOxox

'Would you like anything else?' Arthur spoke the second Agravaine had swallowed his final mouthful. 'More bread? More wine?'

'No, thank you. That was more than enough.' Agravaine rose, taking both plates back to the table before walking to the fireplace and resting his hands on the stone mantle, drawing comfort from its solidity. His decision, for better or worse, was made and there was now only one way to proceed.

'I think this is the part where I tell you where I've been and why I left.'

'Yes.' Arthur shifted in his seat, straightening his torso and planting his feet firmly on the floor, as if bracing himself for whatever was coming.

'What do you know about me?' Agravaine was still staring at the stone, his voice quiet but with a subtle edge to it that lent a chill to the air.

'Other than the fact that you are my Uncle and that you supposedly died before I was born … nothing.' Arthur's voice also had an edge, a bitter one. 'No-one here speaks of my mother or her family. They never have.'

'And what do you know of your birth?'

Only the crackling of the flames could be heard in the room but for each man the sound of their heartbeat was loud in their ears. Long minutes passed and then Arthur spoke, voice bland:

'What would you say if I asked what you meant?'

Agravaine spun round, eying Arthur with a mixture of surprise and respect.

'I'd say you were testing me, trying to find out what sort of person I am.'

Arthur smiled but it did not reach his eyes. 'My birth, the circumstances surrounding it ... has been spoken of before by someone who caused great hurt to Camelot. They manipulated the truth in an attempt to use me to kill my father.' He shrugged 'It's made me somewhat wary, given how well kept a secret I think it is.'

'Understandable,' Agravaine nodded as he returned to his seat, apparently unruffled by the implied slur on his character. 'I wasn't supposed to know what they'd done and, in truth, I had no idea at first. Your mother was so happy when she told Tristan and me she was finally with child and we were so happy for her. She'd always wanted children and the months, well, years, of barrenness had been very difficult for her to bear. We were pleased to see her smiling again and simply thought her time had come at last. We didn't question how and besides, Camelot was, for a few months, a wonderful place to be. Her radiance lit up the whole court and her joy seemed infectious. Dark thoughts and concerns were far from all our minds.'

Agravaine paused to take a sip of wine and the opportunity to see how his memories were being received. Arthur was leaning towards him, chin cupped in a hand that was propped on the arm of his chair, a faint smile on his face. His eyes were wide, shining cobalt blue in the firelight, and fixed on Agravaine as if he could not tear them away_. Like a little boy_, Agravaine thought to himself, _being told a new bedtime story_.

'It was gradual at first, the change in her, but as her stomach swelled she seemed to fade. The colour left her cheeks, the sparkle disappeared from her eyes. Even the gold in her hair began to pale but she told us it was the tiredness that came with bearing children. Told us, laughingly, that we were being over-protective brothers and to stop worrying. Tristan accepted her word but I … I could not.'

Agravaine's face creased with the memories and he pushed himself from the chair, beginning to pace in front of the dark window.

'I had always been closer to her than Tristan; there was scarcely a year between us and we banded together as children. Two of a kind, our father would say, bookworms together. Tristan didn't understand me, didn't want to. He was a warrior and for him that was everything. Igraine and I never lost the early closeness and I could _feel_ something wasn't right. I watched her grow weaker, still insisting to everyone that she was well, but I could see the concern in Gaius' face and the fear in Uther's and I couldn't sit by any more. So I went to find Gaius, to ask him what he knew ….'

xoxOxox

'… by her eighth month she was but a shadow.' Gaius grimaced, fidgeting on his stool.

Merlin remained silent, unwilling to break the flow of words. He was already reeling from the revelations of exactly what Uther and Igraine had done in order to conceive, the thought that Uther had actually set foot on the Isle seeming too fantastic to be true. _I'd thought it was simply a matter of drinking the water from the cup! How naïve could I have been?_ Merlin wondered, amazed that he hadn't considered that creating a new life would require a different act to prolonging one which was already part of the balance. _Uther actually participated in a sacred ritual, stood before the altar, accepted the cup, spilt his blood, leapt over the flames and …_ pushing those thoughts aside, unwilling to picture what had occurred, he tuned back into Gaius' words.

'There was nothing specific, no real symptoms to diagnose, but I could feel the taint of death on her. I did my best to keep her well, to make her comfortable but I didn't speak of it. She seemed oblivious to her own discomfort, focused solely on the babe growing inside and besides, I couldn't find the words.' Gaius' agitation was returning; the fraying cuff of his robe suffering under fingers that would not remain still, his face clouded with remembrance.

'I went to Uther, to tell him of my suspicions but he would not let me speak. I could see in his face that he suspected too, feared as I did … but he did not want to hear, could not allow me to voice what we both thought the true consequence of his actions were to be. I didn't blame him, after all there was no going back, the damage was done.'

'You blamed yourself,' Merlin's voice was soft as he gently gripped Gaius' hands, desperate to try and alleviate the suffering of the man he loved as a father. 'Didn't you?'

'I still do.' Gaius pulled a hand free and made a shushing motion as Merlin went to speak again. 'I know what you would say but it makes no difference. I may have counselled against it but I still acted as their emissary to Nimueh despite my misgivings. When she told me what she intended to do, that she would use the cup of life, I should have stopped it then. I knew the laws of magic. I knew that a life could not be created without a life being taken but I allowed myself to be swayed by Igraine's pleading and Uther's quiet desperation. I convinced myself that this would be different, that the cup was being used to heal Igraine's body, not create the life of the child that would then follow. Even when Nimueh gave me the talisman that would allow me to bring them to the Isle without them knowing its location and told me _when_ they were to come, still I did nothing. I could have prevented everything.'

'And I wouldn't be here if you had.' Merlin crouched in front of Gaius, taking both his hands again. 'Neither would Arthur … Some good did come out of it, even if it was at far too high a price. And you know in your heart that nothing you could have said or done would have made any difference, except for adding one more body to the count. If you had refused, Uther would have found some one else to facilitate his desire and his trust in you would've been destroyed. You cannot continue to carry this burden when it isn't yours to bear.'

Gaius gave a short laugh, shaking his head as he did so. 'You're right. I wouldn't wish you away for anything, Merlin, nor Arthur for that matter. You are both good men and you'll do great things together. You already have. I just keep thinking … '

'I know.' Morgana's face filled Merlin's mind for the umpteenth time that day and for a second regret swamped him. It must have shown on his face as Gaius lifted a hand, brushing Merlin's hair from his forehead, nodding as he did so.

'You know it better than me, I think.'

A lump filled Merlin's throat and he swallowed hard, fighting to get his feelings back under control. 'I still see her face when she came seeking you that night, after she set fire to her room. She was so scared, Gaius, so alone and I abandoned her. If I'd told her about my magic, taught her, helped her … she might never have become our enemy.' He blinked rapidly, dashing a single teardrop from his cheek, 'And then, in all that followed … Gods Gaius, I've made so many mistakes.'

'Mistakes or not they are made. All we can do is deal with what is in front of us.' Gaius' voice had regained its old asperity, for the first time since Agravaine had arrived and that, more than anything else, reminded Merlin exactly why they were having this conversation.

'Well at the moment it isn't a what but a who. Agravaine is in front of us now and you were - before we got sidetracked - telling me why his return has upset you so much.'

Gaius' countenance became grim once again. 'When I left Uther after our … non-conversation, Agravaine was waiting for me. He told me of his concerns for Igraine, how he didn't believe her assurances that her decline was natural. He said he could see I was troubled, that Uther was afraid and begged me to tell him what was wrong.' He paused for a heartbeat. 'I told him that I didn't know. That there were no obvious symptoms, that there was nothing I could treat. Came up with some bluster about the difficulty she faced in conceiving being mirrored in her time carrying the child, that it was part of the Balance. He had always been more … aware of such things than the rest of the nobles in Camelot. Probably came from being the second son and getting more of an education outside the fighting arts. Not that you'd know it to look at him now but back then he cut a less imposing figure, definitely more of the Lord than a Knight, but then he spent most of his time on the family estate, dealing with the day to day running of the lands in Tristan's stead so that, as eldest son, he could uphold the family honour with his sword. He was only staying in the Citadel to be present at the birth. Anyway,' Gaius shook his head ruefully at how quickly he'd wandered off on a tangent, 'I told him the best way to help Igraine was to try and ensure she was not distressed in any way. To do whatever she asked of him and to be there if she needed reassurance. He accepted my word, thanked me for taking such good care of her and for taking the time to allay his fears …'

He tailed off, his face paling once again.

'But he was acting?' Merlin suggested when Gaius didn't continue. 'He didn't believe you at all?'

'No, he really seemed to take what I'd told him to heart. For the next few days he was almost as attentive to Igraine as Uther and I put his concerns from my mind. Several of the people in the lower town had come down with a high fever and hallucinations and Alice was working night and day to try and contain the outbreak. I was anxious to help her treat them and prevent it spreading into the citadel, fearful at what such an illness might do to Igraine. There was little respite and both of us worked long into the night and so, when Igraine started to fear for her own health and asked for me, I was not there for her …'

xoxOxox

'It can't have been more than a week after I spoke to Gaius that I found out the truth.' Agravaine leant back against the wall only to spring forward and resume pacing a second later. 'I'd taken supper with her as Uther was away. He'd ridden out to the Forest of Ascetir – investigating reports of a strange beast preying on travellers – and wasn't due back until the following day. She was struggling to eat her meal her hands were shaking so violently, but it was when she dropped her cup, covering her skirts and the floor in red wine, that she lost her composure and sent me for Gaius.'

He shook his head, bitterness lacing his next words, 'But he was nowhere to be found, having run off to treat some infestation of peasants no doubt, so I tried to calm her myself. Told her what Gaius had told me, that it was just part of the Balance and that nature would take its course. I'd never seen true fear in her eyes until that moment but suddenly it was there and it nearly broke my heart.'

Arthur's face was taut, white teeth drawing blood from his ravaged bottom lip and his right leg bouncing apparently of its own accord. Agravaine's voice was growing hoarse, the shadows under his eyes deepening with every step but still he paced.

'She thought the spilt wine an omen of what to come when she birthed you and my mentioning the Balance made her think Gaius had told me everything. She was babbling, half sentences and prayers all jumbled together but I'd read enough to understand what they'd done.'

'Read?'

'Magic was not banned then, Arthur. I, unlike my brutish brother, saw the value in learning. I'd no talent for it myself but I still read the more accessible texts. Besides there was this pretty little sorceress I'd wanted to impress.'

Arthur gave a small snort at the aside but Agravaine became more solemn, finally returning to his seat, slumping forward and speaking to the floor.

'I was so angry with them, Arthur. So angry. She'd sentenced herself to death and Uther had done nothing to stop her. I managed to calm her down but when she begged me not to speak of it to anyone, just look after Uther when she was gone I ran, for fear of what I might do in my rage. I … I don't remember exactly what happened when I finally found Gaius in some hovel in the lower town but once I'd dragged him out and into a deserted alley I showed him how I felt and then, when he was bleeding on the ground, told him was a liar and a murdered. He should know that when she died her blood was on his hands and that I would see to it that he got what he deserved.'

Arthur's mouth was open in an almost perfect circle, his eyebrows merging with his fringe. 'You hit Gaius?'

'I'm not proud of it. He was a servant of the crown and, by her own admission, my sister had begged him to be a party to it. He did not deserve such treatment ...'

'But my father was culpable.' Arthur spoke what Agravaine had left unsaid. 'You went after his scouting party, didn't you?'

'Stupid of me,' Agravaine ran his hand across his eyes. 'but I loved your mother more than anyone else in the world and I just couldn't bear the thought of her being taken from me. I wanted him to hurt how I was hurting and nothing else mattered.'

'But why would he say you were dead?'

'Because to him I was. I ran, Arthur, ran away because I couldn't fix it and I couldn't just sit and wait. I caught up with Uther the next day but by then all the fight had gone out of me. I told him that I knew, made the same threat to him as I made to Gaius and then I got out of Camelot as fast as I could. The last thing I did was to send Tristan a letter, telling him what they'd done, that Uther had let her give her life up so he could have an heir and that I couldn't live with it and then I fled.'

Agravaine buried his head in his hands and drew in a shaky breath. Arthur reached across, laying a gentle hand on his arm. 'Where did you go?'

'South, across the sea to Armorica. My father had been friendly with King Hoel and I begged a place in his court. Applied myself properly to the arts of a warrior and eventually won a place in his band of knights. I even won the hand of a beautiful woman, Eleanor of Broceliande and had a child of my own, a daughter, Elaine. It was a good life.'

Arthur's forehead creased, his eyes searching the older man's face which had softened, eyes misted as he spoke of his family.

'If you were happy then why are you here? Why leave your family to visit me?'

'I didn't leave them, they were taken.' Now the sorrow that Arthur had seen in his eyes in the council chamber returned in full force. 'They'd gone for a picnic, just the two of them. Elaine was almost old enough to be courted and Eleanor wanted some time with her. It never crossed my mind that anything would happen to them.'

'I'm so sorry,' Arthur whispered, his thoughts turning to Gwen and how he would feel if she were to be stolen away, what he would do. 'How long have they been gone?'

'Nearly half a year.' Agravaine leant back in his chair, a hint of defeat in his voice. 'And in all that time I've found not a word, not a whisper, of where they might be, who might have taken them.'

'So you didn't come here following a lead?'

'No, I spoke truly. I came to see you, for the sake of my love for my sister. All my family now are either dead or gone, save you, Arthur and I owe it to her and to myself to be the man I couldn't be then.

Tears were trickling down his cheeks as he knelt before his nephew.

'It is not much but this I pledge, Arthur Pendragon. I pledge myself as a true servant of Camelot. All that I am, all that I have, I offer here and now for the betterment of this Kingdom. I hope to live out the rest of my days here with you and earn your trust and respect.'

Arthur too was now openly weeping as he stood,

'Uncle … you did not need to say those words but I am honoured to accept your allegiance. I .. I know in my heart that my mother would want this and I am glad to offer you a place as a Knight of Camelot and on the Council as one of my advisors.' He bent, raised Agravaine to his feet and embraced him again. As they drew apart he added, 'and I will not let you give up on your family. I will do all that is in my power to find them and bring them back to you.'

Agravaine could find no words, only managing to nod and smile as they blinked away the tears and collected themselves.

'It is late, Uncle. Come, let me show you to your chambers.'

Agravaine followed Arthur through the corridors, mind still back in the solar and what had unfolded. On reaching the chambers Arthur shared a few words with Joren, who had been unpacking the last of his master's belongings, before bidding them both good night. As the turned to leave Agravaine called after him

'You truly are your mother's son, Arthur. I'm glad to know you.'

Arthur turned, smile illuminating every feature, 'And I'm glad to know you, Uncle.'

xoxOxox

'I think you might be over reacting.' Merlin said finally, trying not to see the hurt in Gaius' expression at his words. 'I can understand why you fear him but don't you think that if he really was hell bent on revenge that he'd have done something before now?'

'I do not pretend to understand the working of his mind.' Gaius snapped, jerking his arm away from Merlin's tentatively stretched out hand. 'He threatened me and he threatened Uther and he set Tristan on the path that lead to his death at Uther's hands by implying that he had taken his own life before Igraine died in childbirth. He is dangerous!'

Merlin hung his head, angry with himself for not putting his objections to Gaius' panic in a better, less confrontational way. 'I'm sorry Gaius. I really didn't mean to upset you. It's just that I've had no warning from that spell whatsoever. He hasn't thought badly of Arthur once this evening. Besides, he didn't react at all to seeing you when he arrived and if revenge had festered within him all these years don't you think he'd have done something, however small, to acknowledge you?'

Their eyes met and Merlin could see the war being waged in Gaius' head but he kept silent, unsure what else he could say. Finally Gaius nodded.

'You're probably right. I'm just being a silly old man,' Gaius stood, pushing his hands into the small of his back and uttering a small groan. 'I should learn to trust your instincts, Merlin, they've proved good in the past.' He dropped a hand onto Merlin's shoulder, patting it awkwardly. 'Best get to bed now. I expect Arthur will want you bright and early tomorrow.'

Merlin recognised the dismissal and headed straight for his room, mind returning once more to his strange vision earlier in the day. He'd think about Agravaine tomorrow but right now he had bigger things to worry about.

xoxOxox

The great bell had tolled midnight long before Joren stuck his head into the empty corridor, eyes darting over every niche and shadow, ears pricked for any hint of movement. Nothing. Shutting and locking his chamber door he leaned against the wood and surveyed the chamber that was to be home for the foreseeable future. Despite his disparaging comments to Agravaine as he'd helped him prepare for bed he was happy to admit, in the privacy of his own head, that he was impressed. It may have been smaller than his master's adjoining chamber but it was almost twice the size of anything he'd been assigned before and infinitely more comfortable, with a four poster bed, good sized hearth and a desk under the window as well as a table to take meals on. _This is definitely how I want to live_, he thought contentedly, ears still straining to pick up any sound of movement from the corridor. The silence and late hour gave him confidence that he was, finally, alone so he made his way over to the untidy pile of his own belongings to complete his final task for the day.

Lifting the circular shield free of the saddlebags he moved to the wall by the window, where he had earlier noted with satisfaction that there was a conveniently placed hook. Stripping the covering off to reveal the Du Bois eagle rising from the crossed swords that distinguished Agravaine's device from his deceased brother's, he hoisted it into place, his face now reflected in the expanse of polished metal which made up the eagle's body and outstretched wings. Taking a step back he stretched both arms out, pressing his palms to the sword tips, before taking several steadying breaths and carefully uttering the archaic words.

'Ic básneúre ansíen'

At first nothing happened, no matter how hard he squinted all he could see was his own face, reflecting his fear that he'd remembered the incantation wrong. Withdrawing his hands from the shield he rubbed his eyes, muttering imprecations at his own stupidity.

'Such language, Joren! Where have you been spending your nights to be familiar words like those?'

His head jerked up at the sound of her voice, the same lilting voice that had taught him the incantation, and his nose filled with the scent of honeysuckle and ripe apricots. Her green eyes sparkled with mirth as they surveyed him from the shield, her smirk leaving him in no doubt what she was alluding to.

'My Lady,' he inclined his head, spots of colour appearing high on his cheekbones. 'My apologies. Those words were not meant for your ears.'

'Quite,' her glossy red lips curved into a genuine smile as her hand came into view, beckoning him closer. 'But there are other words that are. Tell me all that has happened since we last spoke. Leave nothing out, however insignificant it may seem to you. Knowledge is power, Joren, and I will need all the power I can lay my hands on. Beltane may be months away but we must be absolutely ready by then. Nothing can be allowed to go wrong.'

Her eyes narrowed and her gaze moved past Joren's head, leaving him in no doubt she was once again dwelling on unpleasant memories. Her next words resonated with a level of hate that made him shiver despite himself, glad he was not the one her wrath was directed towards.

'There is no room for failure. I _will_ have my revenge.'

* * *

><p><strong>Kizzia: And thus ends this sub-episode.<strong>

**I should probably also say that given there is probably less than two months before Season 4 airs I'm spending the rest of the day cutting out the remaining sub-episodes and reworking my plan - there is no way I can get what would amount to around 279,000 words written before then (not with a job, a blog and another novel on the go at the same time). I'll post amended details on my profile page once I've sorted it out. There will still be 13 real episodes but other than the first two, their contents will change quite a bit!**

**Last thing, but really the most important XD - there is a button down there marked review, please give it a click and let me know your thoughts as they are much appreciated and valued!**


	8. E1 Revival of the Witch Part I

**Disclaimer: Don't own, not making any money, no copyright infringement intended etc. All the characters you recognise belong to BBC and Shine, those you don't are mine, for my sins.**

**Kizzia: Thank you to all of you for sticking with this, especially when there has been such a gap between updates, I really hope you enjoy this instalment. Please note that this is unbeta'd, though I've done my best to eliminate any mistakes.**

**I think it is safe to say that this whole story is now AU, given that I know pretty much what's going to happen in Episodes 1 & 2 of S4 and my plot certainly doesn't involve swooping skulls that look like the combination of the Priori Incantatem of Morsmordre and a white version of the death eaters method of apparition in the HP films. As you can tell I wasn't exactly impressed by the CGI in the clip they played on 'Something for the Weekend' on Sunday!**

**Anyway, enough of my grumblings, here is the chapter:**

* * *

><p><span>Episode One: Revival of the Witch – Part I<span>

The livid gout of flame flew across the dark clearing, singeing the tips of the new spring grass as it passed, heading towards the young man at its centre who was standing silent and still as the night sky above him. At the very last moment, just when it seemed that the flame would strike him square on the chest he raised his right hand, causing the fire to screech to a crackling halt mere millimetres from his outstretched palm. Merlin blinked lazily at what was now a ball of fire and it began to rise, halting just below the tree tops and illuminating the clearing like a miniature sun.

'Not bad, Young W…' Kilgharrah began, but with an almost imperceptible twitch of his fingers Merlin split the ball in two, sending one half screaming back towards the Great Dragon, who had to scramble in a most undignified manner in order to avoid being struck.

'You were saying?'

Kilgharrah gave a snort that shot sparks from his nostrils, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. 'Most impressive, then, if you are determined to fish for compliments.'

'It isn't as if I can expect them from anyone else, now is it?' Merlin's retort was accompanied by another flick of his fingers, the remaining fireball splitting again to become a dozen candle sized flames that danced around his body. 'Besides, I've come all this way to see you, offering a bit of encouragement is the least you can do.' The wicked grin faded from his face he added 'I just wish I found every spell I'm trying to work this easy.'

The dragon regarded him solemnly. 'You are a Dragonlord, Merlin, of course you have an affinity for fire. Its mastery is in your soul as it is in mine and now you are starting to probe the full extent of your power it is unsurprising you have such instinctive and absolute control over it. As for your other abilities, well, if you had grown up in a world where magic was accepted you would understand just how extraordinary your talents are, how advanced you are for your years. What you are now struggling with are spells that only the oldest and wisest sorcerers have ever attempted. Chastising yourself for being unable to command all your magic with the ease you work your own element is foolish … even if it is for the best of reasons.'

'Have you sensed anything?' Merlin's expression was hopeful as he settled himself on the ground and, summoning some logs from the edge of the clearing, allowed the flames to settle on them and start a proper fire.

Kilgharrah shook his head, 'The only thing I've sensed since she revived her sister was those traces at Imbolc and before you ask, I have no more idea of what that was now than I did then.'

'But …'

'But nothing,' Kilgharrah did nothing to hide the impatience in his voice, 'You sensed just as much as I did and we discussed it quite extensively at the time. All I can say for certain is that it was the Witch's power.'

'I know, I just …' Merlin offered the dragon a rueful smile, 'I find it hard to be rational where Morgana is concerned. Those traces came from the north and were so faint here that whatever she was doing must have been huge to have reached us at all.'

Merlin slammed his hands on the ground, making a growling noise as he did so, 'I just wish I could have picked up more from it. All I got was a sense of awe and satisfaction and, as both you and Gaius have so helpfully pointed out, that could mean anything. It's the only sense of her I've had since the vision from the flames and it felt … wrong in my mind, tainted somehow and not just because it was her. That, well it … it frightens me, that I don't know what it was or what it did. How can I fight what I don't understand?'

The stern expression on the reptilian features softened into something approaching a smile, 'You worry too much for one so young. The Witch may have come into her powers but you have spent your entire life being at one with yours. When her attack comes you will meet it - whatever form it takes - because it is what you were born to do …' he stood, stretching his vast frame before lowering his head and fixing Merlin with a formidable stare, '… because you are Emrys.'

And with a powerful beat of his wings he was soaring away, a dark shadow blotting out the stars.

'Bloody lizard,' Merlin muttered under his breath, shaking leaves and dust out of his hair as he clambered to his feet and doused the fire with a gesture. 'Always has to have the last word.'

xoxOxox

Joren strode across the courtyard as the first splash of dawn washed over the sky, his face set into impassive lines that belied the thoughts behind his eyes. None of the guards stationed along his route gave him more than a passing glance and that, he acknowledged with amusement, was all down to Merlin and Gaius. Acting as stand in for the Prince Regent's personal servant while the clumsy oaf was off - gathering herbs of all things - meant that, given he was already well known as the dutiful and devoted Squire of said Regent's Uncle, his presence in any part of Camelot would go unquestioned and unchecked. Really, if he didn't know better he'd have thought Morgana had finally had some success in magically manipulating events in the city from afar. As it was he'd offered up thanks to which ever God might be listening for the luck that meant Gaius' need for supplies had caused the old fool to assist, albeit unwittingly, in his own downfall.

Giving a brief nod of greeting to the sentries at the entrance to the northern ramparts he headed inside and, after a quick check to make sure there were no additional guards in the corridor, descended quietly down a disused stairwell to a small door. From the outside it was all but invisible, set as it was behind the curve of the watchtower and in constant shadow, but here it was obvious … if you were one of the few who knew it existed. Once he'd got it unbarred and released all the bolts he slid the key - purloined from the draw in Arthur's chambers last night - out of his tunic, turned it in the lock and then pulled.

The door opened noiselessly, revealing a swath of grass stretching from the door to the trees of the forest. His view of the space was obstructed, however, by a slight, black cloaked figure directly in front of him.

'Joren,' Morgana breathed as she slipped past him, so close the scent of honeysuckle and apricots seemed to fill his mind.

'My Lady,' he whispered, trying to will down the flush in his cheeks and the tremor in his voice. 'I hope I haven't kept you waiting.'

'No, you assist me perfectly, as always,' pushing back her hood she favoured him with a slow smile that almost made him drop the key as he removed it from the door.

'Here,' she took his hand in her own, slim fingers deftly relieving him of the cool metal. Stretching her black gloved hands out, palms up with the key on the left one, she muttered 'Gelíobisen.'

Her eyes turned from green to molten gold and there was a blinding flash and smell of hot metal that made Joren struggle to breath. As the spots cleared from his vision his eyes met the sight of two apparently identical keys, one on each of her palms.

'There is no difference between them,' she said, offering both back to him. 'So it doesn't matter which you return to my dear brother's chambers.'

'And the other?' he asked although he suspected he knew the answer

'For Agravaine to keep,' she confirmed, already half way up the stairs so that he had to scramble to catch up, 'it will make the next part of the plan so much easier, will it not?'

She had reached the top of the stairs and he grabbed her arm in his haste, 'There are guards, my Lady, at the end of the corridor.'

'They will not see me.'

'But …'

She freed her arm from his grasp and drew a blood red crystal out from under the bodice of her dress. 'If it makes you feel better I will renew the enchantment.' Lifted the glittering rock to eye level she intoned:

'Ic béo ac a orpung ap byre swá Ic áierne … Búte þú geþoftian æt méc Ic béo ungesewenu.'

The crystal seemed to drink in the gold from her eyes, glowing like the dawn he had just witnessed and then faded back to its original hue.

'Now just watch,' tucking the crystal back into her clothes she stepped out of the stairwell and swept towards the entrance and the guards, heels echoing on the stone. Neither so much as flinched at sound, nor reacted at all as she stopped in front of them and turned, crooking her finger at Joren, 'Come, there is much to do.'

Joren swallowed down his amazement – being told what magic could achieve and actually witnessing it were two very different things - and obeyed with alacrity. Only his sense of propriety and the proximity of his Lady stopped him from laughing out loud at the guards, both of whom offered him a distracted goodbye as he left; they were too busy discussing the sudden, strange drafts in the passageway.

'Don't speak,' Morgana commanded as they moved through the still empty streets. 'You go straight to my brother and fulfil your duties. I will do what is needed here and then ensure that Uther has not forgotten me.'

Joren contented himself with a small nod as she pulled her hood back up and turned aside, entering a dwelling near the top of the lower town. Quickening his pace he soon reached the citadel courtyard, where a figure clad in black and silver detached itself from the shadows along the wall and fell into step with him.

'Good morning, Sir Agravaine,'

'Is it, Joren?'

'Oh yes, Sir, a very good morning indeed.'

xoxOxox

Merlin straightened with groan, shoving the last herb on Gaius' list into his now bulging bag, and tried to stifle yet another yawn with a mud covered hand. Not even the myriad of birdcalls and shafts of dawn sunshine lancing through the trees was enough to bring him to full wakefulness. Being up for almost a day and half straight and still having half a days walk to get back to the Camelot was not conducive to wakefulness or good humour. _If I didn't need these blasted things to cover where I've really been I'd be back already_, he thought with irritation, glaring at the bag before making his way towards a small stream in the hopes that the ice cold water would liven him up a bit. He'd drunk his fill and was washing his face when a sudden sense of unease swept over him.

Springing to his feet, heedless of the droplets that clumped his black locks and ran down his face unchecked, his blue eyes scanned the clearing even as he opened his magic to the world. The renewing, rejuvenating force of spring filled him, doing in seconds what usually required a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast, but that was the only other magic his powers identified. There was nothing but him, the birds and several rabbits in the immediate vicinity; certainly no cause for alarm. _But something isn't right, _he thought, retreating to the large willow on the stream's bank and sitting down with his back against the trunk, _and I'm damn well going to find out what it is_.

'æt á eágsínes ic béo ac welig,' he muttered, refusing to take any chances despite knowing he was alone. The spell wouldn't hold if he moved but while he remained seated he would be invisible to anyone who didn't know he was there. Closing his eyes he pushed his magic out, searching for anything that could have caused the warning in his mind. His breathing slowed and deepened as he sank into the wellspring of his power. He pushed it through the earth, moving through the land he now saw in his mind as if he were a soaring hawk, examining each area intently as his power reached it. Finally his magic touched Camelot itself.

His eyes flew open in horror, hands grabbing his bag automatically as he got to his feet and began to run as fast as the uneven forest floor would allow. The taint of Morgana's power lingered just inside the supposedly secret entrance to the northern ramparts yet there was calm in the city, all the citizens going about their day as normal. _Which means she's got in undetected_, his mind screamed as his lungs burned with effort, and _Camelot is at her mercy_.

xoxOxox

The clang of metal on metal echoed through the morning air, hastening the footsteps of the few knights who hadn't already reached the training ground. The day was shaping up to be bright and crisp, with only a few wisps of cloud in the sky; a welcome respite from the deluge of April showers Camelot had suffered in the past weeks. However for one knight, weary from a night spent on duty, respite was not forthcoming.

'The enemy won't care that you're tired,' Arthur chided, nimbly sidestepping the half hearted swing from the yawning Elyan and then driving forward, forcing the other man to defend frantically. '_I_ don't care that you're tired. You're a Knight of Camelot, start fighting like one.'

As Elyan gritted his teeth and tried to find an opening in the pitiless onslaught, the four knights in the farthest corner of the field looked on, wincing in sympathy when Arthur caught him solidly on the shoulder and then again in the stomach with the blunt practice sword.

'What's curdled Arthur's milk this morning?' Gwaine spoke softly as the Prince Regent curtly gestured for Elyan to get back on his feet and then took another swing at him before the man was even half way up. 'He's like a bear with toothache.'

'Trouble with Lords Alric and Pellam I believe,' Sir Leon answered, checking the fastenings on his gauntlets, 'Coupled with trying to organise the Beltane feast and then the celebrations to thank our allies for their assistance in the past year. It will be the first time he's welcomed royalty as the ruler of Camelot, rather than as the Crown Prince and he's fretting over every detail.'

'Not to mention that Merlin is off getting Gaius' supplies,' Percival said, idly twirling a huge broadsword in one hand as if it were no more than a twig, 'He's always grumpier when Merlin isn't around.'

The snorts of laughter that followed this astute pronouncement drew the attention of a highly agitated Prince.

'You're here to train, not to gossip,' he yelled, glaring at the group over Elyan, who was bent double and wheezing, 'get over here and get on with it.'

'Sire,' they chorused, biting down on their laughter and moving into the combat area. Lancelot squared off against Gwaine, flipping his visor down and taking the offensive, all the while keeping one eye on Arthur. He suspected that the trouble Leon had mentioned centred round Arthur's refusal to discuss the possibility of his marrying with the senior nobles and their demands that he invite 'appropriate' women to the feast and celebrations. Not that he knew for certain, but given that it was Elyan who was having the seven bells knocked out of him it was a fair bet that whatever was bothering Arthur was somehow related to his Gwen. _It'll be almost certain if he turns his attention to me next_, Lancelot thought, only narrowly missing being disarmed because he wasn't concentrating properly. _Given the way Elyan's taking hits I reckon I'll be up in about five minutes._

In fact it was ten, but then Lancelot was subjected to one of the most brutal training bouts he'd ever experienced. By the time the hour had passed only Arthur and Percival appeared undamaged as the Regent called a halt to proceedings before stalking off, Squire Joren following in his wake like an eager pup. As the five of them gulped water and allowed the servants to help them out of their armour none of them could hold back the small moans of pain each movement elicited.

'Is Merlin due back today or tomorrow?' Leon asked, wincing as he examined an already purpling bruise on his forearm.

'Not sure,' Lancelot answered, trying to keep his face impassive. Merlin had told him the real reason for his departure - that he was going to meet with Kilgharrah and practice some of the more spectacular of his spells - and he didn't want to draw any more attention to his friends comings and goings than were necessary. 'Guess it depends on how easily he finds the herbs Gaius needs.'

'Well if he's not back by this afternoon I suggest we invite Arthur to dine with us this evening.'

'Right, maybe a night off will take his mind off beating us half to death,' Elyan said from where he was slumped against the wall.

'Yeah,' Gwaine grinned in a manner that suggested mischief was in the offing, 'plus, if we get him drunk enough he won't be able to train tomorrow at all.'

'That wasn't what I meant and you know it,' Leon shot him a long-suffering look that had no effect on the irrepressible knight whatsoever.

'Yeah but it can't hurt to try, can it?'

'Come on,' Lancelot said, offering Elyan his hand. 'If I stay here much longer I'm going to seize up. Things will seem brighter after a change of clothes and an application of Gaius' bruise balm.'

Gwaine looked back at the others and gave a roguish wink, 'They will if I can get Lady Bronwen to rub it in for me.'

Shaking their heads they caught up to Gwaine, teasing him about his infatuationw with the beautiful woman he had been pursuing without success since their arrival and not really paying attention to those around them. Not that it would have made any difference, they could have been on the highest alert and they wouldn't have seen the hooded figure that hurried passed them as they reached the first of the market stalls.

'Fools,' Morgana spat at their retreating backs, 'you should be making the most of this day. It will be one of your last.'

xoxOxox

'Thank you, Gaius,' Gwen rested her hand on his shoulder for a brief moment as he closed the door behind them. 'He'd been doing so well just recently. I … was hoping he wouldn't need sleeping draughts during the day any more.'

'I know, my dear,' he patted her hand gently and, noting the sadness in her eyes, continued 'but you are doing all you can and that gives Arthur great comfort. I shall go and speak to him now; he should be back from training now. And I suggest you take an hour for yourself – the King won't wake until noon at the earliest.'

'I don't know what happened,' Gwen smoothed her skirts out and nodding to Ulfin and Brithael, who were guarding the King's chamber, as she passed them. 'He was calm and lucid when he first woke but when I returned with his breakfast he was terrified, shaking and mumbling "not Arthur, please not Arthur" over and over again. I don't understand.'

'He could have been re-living an old memory or perhaps fell into a doze and had a strange dream,' Gaius halted in front of her door and gave her hand another pat. 'The damage Morgana did, both with the mandrake root and then her traitorous actions, has irreparably affected his mind, Gwen. You cannot second guess his moods and neither can you blame yourself when another symptom of his malaise presents itself.'

'It isn't any sort of life,' she said, half to herself.

'No, it isn't. But you make it as comfortable as possible for. Now I must go to Arthur,' he took as couple of steps and then, eyes twinkling, added, 'but I will let him know that you are free of your duties for the time being.'

A light blush mantled her cheeks as she waved him away and she wondered, not for the first time, if she would ever get used to people knowing about the feelings she and Arthur had for one another. Not that she minded Gaius knowing she conceded as she entered her chambers, but she couldn't help but wish Arthur hadn't confided in Sir Agravaine about their relationship. There was something about Arthur's Uncle that made her uneasy and she disliked the way he looked at her, as if he were judging her and finding her wanting. Plus she suspected that he was the reason the senior nobles were now aware of the depth of Arthur's feelings for her, which had made both their lives uncomfortable of late. She would not forgive such a betrayal of trust if she found it he were behind it.

Coming out her reverie with a stern admonition to herself not to dwell on things she couldn't change she saw the morning sun was streaming through her window, offering a perfect light for needlework. _I must make the most of this_, she told herself, scooping up the dress she was making for Seren and moving toward the rocking chair, _once the guests start arriving for the first feast I doubt I'll get so much as a minute to myself_.

She didn't make it to her seat as, at last, her mind caught up with what her senses had been trying to tell her; something wasn't quite right. The fire was almost out, her breakfast dishes were still on the table and the bed was just as she'd left it, tidy but unmade. Setting the dress aside she looked behind the door to find the laundry basket still there and then popped her head into the small antechamber. Sure enough the note and coins she'd left with a request that Hunith pick her up some more plain thread from the market was still on the small shelf in the corner, so that wasn't the reason for her absence. Frowning, she made for the door, pausing only to pull her pale shawl from the cupboard and wrap it round her shoulders. She'd never known Hunith to be late before and she couldn't help but be concerned. Surely if she were ill she'd have sent word with Delwyn, the kitchen maid who lived next door?

Hurrying out of the main doors she collided hard with what turned out to be Sir Leon, lost her footing and would have fallen if another pair of arms hadn't wrapped themselves around her waist.

'Lady Guinevere,' Gwaine chided as he set her back on her feet, 'what would your Prince say if he caught you throwing yourself at his loyal knights?'

'I'm not a lady,' Gwen said, firmly removing his hands and shooting him a look that could have boiled water. Gwaine opened his mouth to reply but got no further.

'There is a time a place for your brand of humour and this is neither. Elyan said, clouting him round the head before taking Gwen's hands in his own, 'Gwen, are you alright?'

'I'm fine,' she said, giving him a distracted smile, 'I was just going to find Hunith. She hasn't been to my chambers today and none of the other servants have seen her.'

'I'll come with you.' Percival's anxiety was palpable. Hunith was well liked by all of them but the big knight had a soft spot for the kindly woman. He'd found in her echoes of his own Mother and visited her almost as much as Merlin did.

'You are due on patrol shortly, as are Gwaine and I,' Leon reminded him. 'And you're in no fit state for anything but bed,' he spoke across Elyan before the man had a chance to offer his services. 'Lancelot, would you be able to accompany Gwen?'

'I don't need _accompanying_,' her tone leaving none of them in any doubt she was not pleased, 'I lived in the lower town for years, Leon. I'm not some noblewoman in need of protection!'

'Nevertheless …'

'I am happy to go with you,' Lancelot said, cutting Leon off before he could mention Arthur's orders to them regarding her. 'Not for your protection but for my own peace of mind and for Merlin, in his stead.'

Her face lightened and she nodded, 'I'll see you all later … Lancelot, are you coming?'

She was already halfway down the steps and he realised he'd been staring at her, watching the way the wind moved her curls. 'Of course,' he started forward hurriedly, raising a hand in farewell to his friends, grateful none of them seemed to have noticed his momentary slip.

They walked in silence, Lancelot keeping a pace behind Gwen while he struggled to regain his composure. She didn't appear to notice his discomfort, too intent on getting to her old house as quickly as possible, weaving deftly between people, stalls, horses and wagons. They had almost reached the gate to the lower town when a child's scream split the air ahead. Gwen immediately hitched up her skirts and darted forward, Lancelot reacting a heartbeat later, drawing his sword as he pelted towards the unknown trouble.

xoxOxox

'That will be all Joren,' Arthur said, settling himself behind his desk and picking up a random report. 'Instruct one of the servants to bring my noon meal for me. I'm sure Uncle would prefer to have you back in attendance sooner rather than later.'

'Of course Sire,' Joren said, briskly stowing some of Arthur's clothing in his chest of draws and taking the opportunity to return the key at the same time. 'Although my Lord has placed me at your disposal until Merlin returns.'

'And I'm grateful for his kindness but Merlin should be back this afternoon and I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself for the rest of the morning. You may return to your normal duties now.'

'As you wish Sire,' Joren bowed low, leaving Arthur in blessed silence a few seconds later.

Between being accosted before training by Lord Pellam, who had practically demanded to see the guest list for the festivities before repeating his assertion that Arthur needed to marry "someone of noble stock" at once in order to cement his position as Regent, and finding Gaius waiting for him on his return with news his father had taken a turn for the worse again, there were only two people he wanted to talk to and neither were available. To be honest he'd rather have discussed everything with Merlin but since the man was probably falling into ditches in the forest in search of yarrow stalks or some other such foliage he'd gone straight to Gwen, only to find her chambers empty. He'd assumed she'd gone into town with Hunith, the other woman being absent as well, so he'd resigned himself to working on reports instead.

He'd thought Joren's presence was what had been distracting him but he still couldn't seem to concentrate at all. The way he'd conducted himself in training pushed itself to the forefront of his mind, accompanied by the little voice that sounded more than a little like Merlin. _You're going to have to apologise to them. You can't take your frustrations out on them like that and expect to keep their friendship and respect_. Setting the papers aside he stood, stretched and wandered to the open window, wondering if he should seek them out now or wait until evening when they would probably all be together. As he stared, unseeing, out into the courtyard a commotion at the entrance drew his gaze; a woman was running towards the main steps, distress radiating from every line of her body, shouting for people to get out of the way. It was Gwen and following her, as fast as he could with what looked like an unconscious body cradled in his arms, was Lancelot.

Arthur hurtled out of his chamber and ran west, reaching the open door to Gaius' chambers just as Lancelot laid his now convulsing burden in front of the physician. Gwen's frantic entreaties for Gaius to "do something, help her … please" faded out of his hearing as he looked on, horrified, at the chalk white skin and bluish lips of the woman on the bed.

It was Hunith, dying in front of him and Merlin wasn't even here to say goodbye.

* * *

><p><strong>Kizzia: *grabs sword from the wall to defend against angry readers wielding weapons* I know, I know, no updates for ages and then I leave you with a cliff hanger of epic proportions. In my defence, I had to break it there – it was getting close to 5,000 words as it was! <strong>

**I'm not going to give you an estimate of timing for the next update since each time I've done it so far I seem to have jinxed myself and ended up not having any time to work on this at all. Thus the only thing I'm going to say is that I will continue this story and I will finish it, despite S4 being almost upon us – that is a promise! **

**Oh and as usual:**

**There's a little button below that I'd really appreciate you clicking on. I'd love you to leave me a review – short, long, good, bad or indifferent, I don't mind - I really do care what you think about the story and my writing XD**


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